He   Swung    the   Crown    Prince    High    Upon    His    Shoulder. 


THE  KING'S 
JACKAL. 


BY 

RICHARD  HARDING  DAVIS 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

Charles  Dana  Gibson 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
NEW  YORK:::: :::::::::::::  1910 


-? 


COPYRIGHT,  1891,  1896,  1898,  1903 
3V  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


CONTENTS 


%*  In  thtt  Tolume  is  included  "  The  Reporter  Who  Made  Himself  King,1* 
heretofore  published  in  the  volume  entitled  "  Cinderella  and  Other  Stories." 


THE  KING'S  JACKAL i 

THE  REPORTER  WHO  MADE  HIMSELF  KING  .    .  139 


224031 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

He  swung  the  Crown  Prince  high  upon  hia  shoulder 

Frontispiece 


PACING 
PAGE 


The  monk  continued  to  gaze  steadily  at  the  blue  waters  .  32 
«'  He  will  get  the  best  of  us  if  we  stay  "  ....  52 
"  I  suppose  it  is  because  you  are  fighting  for  your  home**  78 
•'I  never  saw  a  king,"  Gordon  remarked  .  .  .  •  154 
About  time  to  begin  on  the  goats  .......182 


THE    KING'S   JACKAL 


The  King's  Jackal 


THE  private  terrace  of  the  Hotel  Grand 
Bretagne,  at  Tangier,  was  shaded  by  a 
great  awning  of  red  and  green  and  yellow,  and 
strewn  with  colored  mats,  and  plants  in  pots,  and 
wicker  chairs.  It  reached  out  from  the  King's 
apartments  into  the  Garden  of  Palms,  and  was 
hidden  by  them  on  two  sides,  and  showed  from 
the  third  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean 
and  the  great  shadow  of  Gibraltar  in  the  distance. 
The  Sultan  of  Morocco  had  given  orders  from 
Fez  that  the  King  of  Messina,  in  spite  of  his  in 
cognito,  should  be  treated  during  his  stay  in  Tan 
gier  with  the  consideration  due  to  his  rank,  so  one- 
half  of  the  Hotel  Grand  Bretagne  had  been  set 
aside  for  him  and  his  suite,  and  two  soldiers  of 
the  Bashaw's  Guard  sat  outside  of  his  door  with 
drawn  swords.  They  were  answerable  with  their 
heads  for  the  life  and  safety  of  the  Sultan's  guest, 
and  as  they  could  speak  no  language  but  their  own, 

3 


The  King's  Jackal 

they  irvadc  2  ^lsit:tcx  his  Majesty  more  a  matter 
of  adventure  than  of  etiquette. 

Niccolas,  the  King's  major-domo,  stepped  out 
upon  the  terrace  and  swept  the  Mediterranean 
with  a  field-glass  for  the  third  time  since  sunrise. 
He  lowered  it,  and  turned  doubtfully  toward  the 
two  soldiers. 

"The  boat  from  Gibraltar — has  she  arrived 
yet?"  he  asked. 

The  two  ebony  figures  shook  their  heads  stiffly, 
as  though  they  resented  this  introduction  of  a 
foreign  language,  and  continued  to  shake  their 
heads  as  the  servant  addressed  the  same  question 
to  them  in  a  succession  of  strange  tongues. 

"Well,"  said  Colonel  Erhaupt,  briskly,  as  he 
followed  Niccolas  out  upon  the  terrace,  "has  the 
boat  arrived?  And  the  launch  from  the  yacht," 
he  continued,  "has  it  started  for  shore  yet?" 

The  man  pointed  to  where  the  yacht  lay,  a  mile 
outside  the  harbor,  and  handed  him  the  glass. 

"It  is  but  just  now  leaving  the  ship's  side,"  he 
said.  "But  I  cannot  make  out  who  comes  in  her. 
Ah,  pardon,"  he  added  quickly,  as  he  pointed  to 
a  stout  elderly  gentleman  who  walked  rapidly 
toward  them  through  the  garden.  "The  Gibral 
tar  boat  must  be  in,  sir.  Here  is  Baron  Barrat 
coming  up  the  path." 

4 


The  King's  Jackal 

Colonel  Erhaupt  gave  an  exclamation  of  satis 
faction,  and  waved  his  hand  to  the  newcomer  in 
welcome. 

"Go  tell  his  Majesty,"  he  said  to  the  servant. 

The  man  hesitated  and  bowed.  "His  Majesty 
still  sleeps." 

"Wake  him,"  commanded  Erhaupt.  "Tell  him 
I  said  to  do  so.  Well,  Baron,"  he  cried,  gayly, 
as  he  stepped  forward,  "welcome — or  are  you 
welcome?"  he  added,  with  an  uneasy  laugh. 

"I  should  be.  I  have  succeeded,"  the  other 
replied  gruffly,  as  he  brushed  past  him.  "Where 
is  the  King?" 

"He  will  be  here  in  a  moment.  I  have  sent 
to  wake  him.  And  you  have  been  successful? 
Good.  I  congratulate  you.  How  far  success 
ful?" 

The  Baron  threw  himself  into  one  of  the  wicker 
chairs,  and  clapped  his  hands  impatiently  for  a 
servant.  "Twelve  thousand  pounds  in  all,"  he  re 
plied.  "That's  more  than  he  expected.  It  was 
like  pulling  teeth  at  first.  I  want  some  coffee  at 
once,"  he  said  to  the  attendant,  "and  a  bath. 
That  boat  reeked  with  Moors  and  cattle,  and 
there  was  no  wagon-lit  on  the  train  from  Madrid. 
I  sat  up  all  night,  and  played  cards  with  that 
young  Cellini.  Have  Madame  Zara  and  Kalonay 

5 


The  King's  Jackal 

returned?  I  see  the  yacht  in  the  harbor.  Did 
she  succeed?" 

"We  do  not  know;  the  boat  only  arrived  at  day 
break.  They  are  probably  on  the  launch  that  is 
coming  in  now." 

As  Barrat  sipped  his  coffee  and  munched  his 
rolls  with  the  silent  energy  of  a  hungry  man,  the 
Colonel  turned  and  strode  up  and  down  the  ter 
race,  pulling  at  his  mustache  and  glancing  side 
ways.  When  the  Baron  had  lighted  a  cigarette 
and  thrown  himself  back  in  his  chair,  Erhaupt 
halted  and  surveyed  him  in  some  anxiety. 

"You  have  been  gone  over  two  weeks,"  he  said. 

"I  should  like  to  see  you  accomplish  as  much 
in  as  short  a  time,"  growled  the  other.  "You 
know  Paris.  You  know  how  hard  it  is  to  get 
people  to  be  serious  there.  I  had  the  devil's  own 
time  at  first.  You  got  my  cablegram?" 

"Yes;  it  wasn't  encouraging." 

"Well,  I  wasn't  hopeful  myself.  They  wouldn't 
believe  a  word  of  it  at  first.  They  said  Louis 
hadn't  shown  such  great  love  for  his  country  or 
his  people  since  his  exile  that  they  could  feel  any 
confidence  in  him,  and  that  his  conduct  in  the  last 
six  years  did  not  warrant  their  joining  any  under 
taking  in  which  he  was  concerned.  You  can't 
blame  them.  They've  backed  him  so  many  times 


The  King's  Jackal 

already,  and  they've  been  bitten,  and  they're  shy, 
naturally.  But  I  swore  he  was  repentant,  that  he 
saw  the  error  of  his  ways,  that  he  wanted  to  sit 
once  more  before  he  died  on  the  throne  of  his 
ancestors,  and  that  he  felt  it  was  due  to  his  son 
that  he  should  make  an  effort  to  get  him  back  his 
birthright.  It  was  the  son  won  them.  'Exhibit 
A,'  I  call  him.  None  of  them  would  hear  of  it 
until  I  spoke  of  the  Prince.  So  when  I  saw  that, 
I  told  them  he  was  a  fine  little  chap,  healthy  and 
manly  and  brave,  and  devoted  to  his  priest,  and 
all  that  rot,  and  they  began  to  listen.  At  first  they 
wanted  his  Majesty  to  abdicate,  and  give  the  boy 
a  clear  road  to  the  crown,  but  of  course  I  hushed 
that  up.  I  told  them  we  were  acting  advisedly, 
that  wre  had  reason  to  know  that  the  common 
people  of  Messina  were  sick  of  the  Republic,  and 
wanted  their  King;  that  Louis  loved  the  common 
people  like  a  father;  that  he  would  re-establish  the 
Church  in  all  her  power,  and  that  Father  Paul  was 
working  day  and  night  for  us,  and  that  the  Vati 
can  was  behind  us.  Then  I  dealt  out  decorations 
and  a  few  titles,  which  Louis  has  made  smell  so 
confoundedly  rank  to  Heaven  that  nobody  would 
take  them.  It  was  like  a  game.  I  played  one 
noble  gentleman  against  another,  and  gave  this 
one  a  portrait  of  the  King  one  day,  and  the  other 

7 


The  King's  Jackal 

a  miniature  of  'Exhibit  A'  the  next,  and  they  grew 
jealous,  and  met  together,  and  talked  it  over,  and 
finally  unlocked  their  pockets.  They  contributed 
about  £9,000  between  them.  Then  the  enthusi 
asm  spread  to  the  women,  and  they  gave  me  their 
jewels,  and  a  lot  of  youngsters  volunteered  for  the 
expedition,  and  six  of  them  came  on  with  me  in 
the  train  last  night.  I  won  two  thousand  francs 
from  that  boy  Cellini  on  the  way  down.  They're 
all  staying  at  the  Continental.  I  promised  them 
an  audience  this  morning." 

"Good,"  commented  the  Colonel,  "good — 
£9,000.  I  suppose  you  took  out  your  commission 
in  advance?" 

"I  took  out  nothing,"  returned  the  other,  an 
grily.  "I  brought  it  all  with  me,  and  I  have  a 
letter  from  each  of  them  stating  just  what  he 
or  she  subscribed  toward  the  expedition, — the 
Duke  Dantiz,  so  much;  the  Duke  D'Orvay, 
50,000  francs;  the  Countess  Mattini,  a  diamond 
necklace.  It  is  all  quite  regular.  I  played  fair." 

The  Colonel  had  stopped  in  his  walk,  and  had 
been  peering  eagerly  down  the  leafy  path  through 
the  garden.  "Is  that  not  Zara  coming  now?" 
he  asked.  "Look,  your  eyes  are  better  than 


mine.1' 


Barrat  rose  quickly,  and  the  two  men  walked 
8 


The  King  s  Jackal 

forward,  and  bowed  with  the  easy  courtesy  of  old 
comrades  to  a  tall,  fair  girl  who  came  hurriedly  up 
the  steps.  The  Countess  Zara  was  a  young  woman, 
but  one  who  had  stood  so  long  on  guard  against 
the  world,  that  the  strain  had  told,  and  her  eyes 
were  hard  and  untrustful,  so  that  she  looked  much 
older  than  she  really  was.  Her  life  was  of  two 
parts.  There  was  little  to  be  told  of  the  first  part; 
she  was  an  English  girl  who  had  come  from  a 
manufacturing  town  to  study  art  and  live  alone  in 
Paris,  where  she  had  been  too  indolent  to  work, 
and  too  brilliant  to  remain  long  without  compan* 
ions  eager  for  her  society.  Through  them  and 
the  stories  of  her  wit  and  her  beauty,  she  had  come 
to  know  the  King  of  Messina,  and  with  that  meet 
ing  the  second  part  of  her  life  began;  for  she  had 
found  something  so  attractive,  either  in  his  title 
or  in  the  cynical  humor  of  the  man  himself,  that 
for  the  last  two  years  she  had  followed  his  for 
tunes,  and  Miss  Muriel  Winter,  art  student,  had 
become  the  Countess  Zara,  and  an  uncrowned 
queen.  She  was  beautiful,  with  great  masses  of 
yellow  hair  and  wonderful  brown  eyes.  Her  man 
ner  when  she  spoke  seemed  to  show  that  she  de 
spised  the  world  and  those  in  it  almost  as  thor* 
oughly  as  she  despised  herself. 

On  the  morning  of  her  return  from  Messina, 
9 


The  King's  Jackal 

she  wore  a  blue  serge  yachting  suit  with  a  golf 
cloak  hanging  from  her  shoulders,  and  as  she 
crossed  the  terrace  she  pulled  nervously  at  her 
gloves  and  held  out  her  hand  covered  with  jewels 
to  each  of  the  two  men. 

"I  bring  good  news,"  she  said,  with  an  excited 
laugh.  "Where  is  Louis?" 

"I  will  tell  his  Majesty  that  you  have  come. 
You  are  most  welcome,"  the  Baron  answered. 

But  as  he  turned  to  the  door  it  opened  from  the 
inside  and  the  King  came  toward  them,  shivering 
and  blinking  his  eyes  in  the  bright  sunlight.  It 
showed  the  wrinkles  and  creases  around  his  mouth 
and  the  blue  veins  under  the  mottled  skin,  and  the 
tiny  lines  at  the  corners  of  his  little  bloodshot  eyes 
that  marked  the  pace  at  which  he  had  lived  as 
truthfully  as  the  rings  on  a  tree-trunk  tell  of  its 
quiet  growth. 

He  caught  up  his  long  dressing-gown  across  his 
chest  as  though  it  were  a  mantle,  and  with  a  quick 
glance  to  see  that  there  were  no  other  witnesses 
to  his  deshabille,  bent  and  kissed  the  woman's 
hand,  and  taking  it  in  his  own  stroked  it  gently. 

"My  dear  Marie,"  he  lisped,  "it  is  like  heaven 
to  have  you  back  with  us  again.  We  have  felt 
your  absence  every  hour.  Pray  be  seated,  and  par 
don  my  robe.  I  saw  you  through  the  blinds  and 

10 


The  King's  Jackal 

could  not  wait.  Tell  us  the  glorious  news.  The 
Baron's  good  words  I  have  already  overheard;  I 
listened  to  them  with  great  entertainment  while  I 
was  dressing.  I  hoped  he  would  say  something 
discourteous  or  foolish,  but  he  was  quite  discreet 
until  he  told  Erhaupt  that  he  had  kept  back  none 
of  the  money.  Then  I  lost  interest.  Fiction  is 
never  so  entertaining  to  me  as  the  truth  and  real 
people.  But  tell  us  now  of  your  mission  and  of  all 
you  did;  and  whether  successful  or  not,  be  assured 
you  are  most  welcome." 

The  Countess  Zara  smiled  at  him  doubtfully 
and  crossed  her  hands  in  her  lap,  glancing  anx 
iously  over  her  shoulder. 

"I  must  be  very  brief,  for  Kalonay  and  Father 
Paul  are  close  behind  me,"  she  said.  "They  only 
stopped  for  a  moment  at  the  custom-house.  Keep 
watch,  Baron,  and  tell  me  when  you  see  them 
coming." 

Barrat  moved  his  chair  so  that  it  faced  the  gar 
den-path,  the  King  crossed  his  legs  comfortably 
and  wrapped  his  padded  dressing-robe  closer 
around  his  slight  figure,  and  Erhaupt  stood  lean 
ing  on  the  back  of  his  chair  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  fine  insolent  beauty  of  the  woman  before  them. 

She  nodded  her  head  toward  the  soldiers  who 
sat  at  the  entrance  to  the  terrace,  as  silent  and 

ii 


The  King's  Jackal 

immovable  as  blind  beggars  before  a  mosque. 
"Do  they  understand  ?"  she  asked. 

"No,"  the  King  assured  her.  "They  under 
stand  nothing,  but  that  they  are  to  keep  people 
away  from  me — and  they  do  it  very  well.  I  wish 
I  could  import  them  to  Paris  to  help  Niccolas  fight 
off  creditors.  Continue,  we  are  most  impatient." 

"We  left  here  last  Sunday  night,  as  you  know," 
she  said.  "We  passed  Algiers  the  next  morning 
and  arrived  off  the  island  at  mid-day,  anchoring 
outside  in  the  harbor.  We  flew  the  Royal  Yacht 
Squadron's  pennant,  and  an  owner's  private  signal 
that  we  invented  on  the  way  down.  They  sent 
me  ashore  in  a  boat,  and  Kalonay  and  Father  Paul 
continued  on  along  the  southern  shore,  where  they 
have  been  making  speeches  in  all  the  coast-towns 
and  exciting  the  people  in  favor  of  the  revolution. 
I  heard  of  them  often  while  I  was  at  the  capital, 
but  not  from  them.  The  President  sent  a  company 
of  carbineers  to  arrest  them  the  very  night  they 
returned  and  smuggled  me  on  board  the  yacht 
again.  We  put  off  as  soon  as  I  came  over  the  side 
and  sailed  directly  here. 

"As  soon  as  I  landed  on  Tuesday  I  went  to  the 
Hotel  de  Messina,  and  sent  my  card  to  the  Presi 
dent.  He  is  that  man  Palaccio,  the  hotel-keeper's 
son,  the  man  you  sent  out  of  the  country  for  wrft- 

12 


The  King's  Jackal 

ing  pamphlets  against  the  monarchy,  and  who 
lived  in  Sicily  during  his  exile.  He  gave  me  an 
audience  at  once,  and  I  told  my  story.  As  he  knew 
who  I  was,  I  explained  that  I  had  quarrelled  with 
you,  and  that  I  was  now  prepared  to  sell  him  the 
secrets  of  an  expedition  which  you  were  fitting  out 
with  the  object  of  re-establishing  yourself  on  the 
throne.  He  wouldn't  believe  that  there  was  any 
such  expedition,  and  said  it  was  blackmail,  and 
threatened  to  give  me  to  the  police  if  I  did  not 
leave  the  island  in  twenty- four  hours — he  was  ex 
ceedingly  rude.  So  I  showed  him  receipts  for  am 
munition  and  rifles  and  Maxim  guns,  and  copies  of 
the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  expedition,  and  papers 
of  the  yacht,  in  which  she  was  described  as  an 
armored  cruiser,  and  he  rapidly  grew  polite,  even 
humble,  and  I  made  him  apologize  first,  and  then 
take  me  out  to  luncheon.  That  was  the  first  day. 
The  second  day  telegrams  began  to  come  in  from 
the  coast-towns,  saying  that  the  Prince  Kalonay 
and  Father  Paul  were  preaching  and  exciting  the 
people  to  rebellion,  and  travelling  from  town  to 
town  in  a  man-of-war.  Then  he  was  frightened. 
The  Prince  with  his  popularity  in  the  south  was 
alarming  enough,  but  the  Prince  and  Father 
Superior  to  help  him  seemed  to  mean  the  end  of 
the  Republic. 

13 


The  King's  Jackal 

"I  learned  while  I  was  down  there  that  the 
people  think  the  father  put  some  sort  of  a  ban 
on  every  one  who  had  anything  to  do  with  driving 
the  Dominican  monks  out  of  the  island  and  with 
the  destruction  of  the  monasteries.  I  don't  know 
whether  he  did  or  not,  but  they  believe  he  did, 
which  is  the  same  thing,  and  that  superstitious  little 
beast,  the  President,  certainly  believed  it;  he  at 
tributed  everything  that  had  gone  wrong  on  the 
island  to  that  cause.  Why,  if  a  second  cousin  of 
the  wife  of  a  brother  of  one  of  the  men  who  helped 
to  fire  a  church  falls  off  his  horse  and  breaks  his 
leg  they  say  that  he  is  under  the  curse  of  the  Father 
Superior,  and  there  are  many  who  believe  the 
Republic  will  never  succeed  until  Paul  returns 
and  the  Church  is  re-established.  The  Govern 
ment  seems  to  have  kept  itself  well  informed  about 
your  Majesty's  movements,  and  it  has  never  felt 
any  anxiety  that  you  would  attempt  to  return,  and 
it  did  not  fear  the  Church  party  because  it  knew 
that  without  you  the  priests  could  do  nothing.  But 
when  Paul,  whom  the  common  people  look  upon 
as  a  living  saint  and  martyr,  returned  hand  in  hand 
with  your  man  Friday,  they  were  in  a  panic  and 
felt  sure  the  end  had  come.  So  the  President 
called  a  hasty  meeting  of  his  Cabinet.  And  such  a 
Cabinet !  I  wish  you  cou!4  have  seen  them,  Louis, 

'$ 


The  King's  Jackal 

with  me  in  the  centre  playing  on  them  like  an  ad« 
vocate  before  a  jury.  They  were  the  most  dread 
ful  men  I  ever  met,  bourgeois  and  stupid  and  ugly 
to  a  degree.  Two  of  them  were  commission-mer 
chants,  and  one  of  them  is  old  Dr.  Gustavanni, 
who  kept  the  chemist's  shop  in  the  Piazza  Royale. 
They  were  quite  silly  with  fear,  and  they  begged 
me  to  tell  them  how  they  could  avert  the  fall  of 
the  Republic  and  prevent  your  landing.  And  I 
said  that  it  was  entirely  a  question  of  money;  that 
if  we  were  paid  sufficiently  the  expedition  would 
not  land  and  we  would  leave  them  in  peace,  but 
that " 

The  King  shifted  his  legs  uneasily,  and  coughed 
behind  his  thin,  pink  fingers. 

"That  was  rather  indiscreet,  was  it  not, 
Marie  ?"  he  murmured.  "The  idea  was  to  make 
them  think  that  I,  at  least,  was  sincere;  was  not 
that  it  ?  To  make  it  appear  that  though  there  were 
traitors  in  his  camp,  the  King  was  in  most  desper 
ate  earnest?  If  they  believe  that,  you  see,  it  will 
allow  me  to  raise  another  expedition  as  soon  as  the 
money  we  get  for  this  one  is  gone;  but  if  you  have 
let  them  know  that  I  am  the  one  who  is  selling 
out,  you  have  killed  the  goose  that  lays  the  golden 
eggs.  They  will  never  believe  us  when  we  cry 

wolf  again " 

15 


The  King's  Jackal 

"You  must  let  me  finish,"  Zara  interrupted.  "  I 
did  not  involve  you  in  the  least.  I  said  that  there 
were  traitors  in  the  camp  of  whom  I  was  the  en 
voy,  and  that  if  they  would  pay  us  300,000  francs 
we  would  promise  to  allow  the  expedition  only  to 
leave  the  yacht.  Their  troops  could  then  make  a 
show  of  attacking  our  landing-party  and  we  would 
raise  the  cry  of  'treachery'  and  retreat  to  the  boats. 
By  this  we  would  accomplish  two  things, — we 
would  satisfy  those  who  had  contributed  funds 
toward  the  expedition  that  we  had  at  least  made  an 
honest  effort,  and  your  Majesty  would  be  dis 
couraged  by  such  treachery  from  ever  attempting 
another  attack.  The  money  was  to  be  paid  two 
weeks  later  in  Paris,  to  me  or  to  whoever  brings 
this  ring  that  I  wear.  The  plan  we  finally  agreed 
upon  is  this :  The  yacht  is  to  anchor  off  Basnai  next 
Thursday  night.  At  high  tide,  which  is  just  about 
daybreak,  we  are  to  lower  our  boats  and  land  our 
men  on  that  long  beach  to  the  south  of  the  break 
water.  The  troops  of  the  Republic  are  to  lie  hid 
den  in  the  rocks  until  our  men  have  formed.  Then 
they  are  to  fire  over  their  heads,  and  we  are  to 
retreat  in  great  confusion,  return  to  the  yacht,  and 
sail  away.  Two  weeks  later  they  are  to  pay  the 
money  into  my  hands,  or,"  she  added,  with  a  smile, 
as  she  held  up  her  fourth  finger,  "to  whoever 

16 


The  King's  Jackal 

brings  this  ring.  And  I  need  not  say  that  the  ring 
will  not  leave  my  finger." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  as  though  the  men 
were  waiting  to  learn  if  she  had  more  to  tell,  and 
then  the  King  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed 
softly.  He  saw  Erhaupt's  face  above  his  shoulder, 
filled  with  the  amazement  and  indignation  of  a 
man  who  as  a  duellist  and  as  a  soldier  had  shown  a 
certain  brute  courage,  and  the  King  laughed  again. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  Colonel?"  he  cried, 
gayly.  "They- are  a  noble  race,  my  late  subjects." 

"Bah !"  exclaimed  the  German.  "I  didn't  know 
we  were  dealing  with  a  home  for  old  women." 

The  Baron  laughed  comfortably.  "It  is  like 
taking  money  from  a  blind  beggar's  hat,"  he  said. 

"Why,  with  two  hundred  men  that  I  could  pick 
»  up  in  London,"  Erhaupt  declared,  contemptuously, 
"I  would  guarantee  to  put  you  on  the  throne  in 
a  fortnight." 

"Heaven  forbid!"  exclaimed  his  Majesty.  "So 
they  surrendered  as  quickly  as  that,  did  they?"  he 
asked,  nodding  toward  Madame  Zara  to  continue. 

The  Countess  glanced  again  over  her  shoulder 
and  bit  her  lips  in  some  chagrin.  Her  eyes  showed 
her  disappointment.  "It  may  seem  an  easy  victory 
to  you,"  she  said,  consciously,  "but  I  doubt,  know 
ing  all  the  circumstances,  if  any  of  your  Majesty's 

17 


The  King's  Jackal 

gentlemen  could  have  served  you  as  well.  It 
needed  a  woman  and " 

"It  needed  a  beautiful  woman,"  interrupted  the 
King,  quickly,  in  a  tone  that  he  would  have  used 
to  a  spoiled  child.  "It  needed  a  woman  of  tact,  a 
woman  of  courage,  a  woman  among  women — the 
Countess  Zara.  Do  not  imagine,  Marie,  that  we 
undervalue  your  part.  It  is  their  lack  of  courage 
that  distresses  Colonel  Erhaupt." 

"One  of  them,  it  is  true,  did  wish  to  fight,"  the 
Countess  continued,  with  a  smile;  "a  Frenchman 
named  Renauld,  whom  they  have  put  in  charge  of 
the  army.  He  scoffed  at  the  whole  expedition,  but 
they  told  him  that  a  foreigner  could  not  under 
stand  as  they  did  the  danger  of  the  popularity  of 
the  Prince  Kolonay,  who,  by  a  speech  or  two 
among  the  shepherds  and  fishermen,  could  raise  an 
army." 

The  King  snapped  his  fingers  impatiently. 

"An  army  of  brigands  and  smugglers!"  he  ex 
claimed.  "That  for  his  popularity!"  But  he  in 
stantly  raised  his  hands  as  though  in  protest  at 
his  own  warmth  of  speech  and  in  apology  for  his 
outbreak. 

"His  zeal  will  ruin  us  in  time.  He  is  deucedly 
in  the  way,"  he  continued,  in  his  usual  tone  of  easy 
cynicism.  "We  should  have  let  him  into  our  plans 

18 


The  King's  Jackal 

from  the  first,  and  then  if  he  chose  to  take  no  part 
in  them  we  would  at  least  have  had  a  free  hand. 
As  it  is  now,  we  have  three  different  people  to  de 
ceive  :  this  Cabinet  of  shopkeepers,  which  seems 
easy  enough;  Father  Paul  and  his  fanatics  of  the 
Church  party;  and  this  apostle  of  the  divine  right 
of  kings,  Kalonay.  And  he  and  the  good  father 
are  not  fools " 

At  these  words  Madame  Zara  glanced  again 
toward  the  garden,  and  this  time  with  such  evident 
uneasiness  in  her  face  that  Barrat  eyed  her  with 
quick  suspicion. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked,  sharply.  "There  is 
something  you  have  not  told  us." 

The  woman  looked  at  the  King,  and  he  nodded 
his  head  as  though  in  assent.  "I  had  to  tell  them 
who  else  was  in  the  plot  besides  myself,"  she  said, 
speaking  rapidly.  "I  had  to  give  them  the  name 
of  some  man  who  they  knew  would  be  able  to  do 
what  I  have  promised  we  could  do — who  could  put 
a  stop  to  the  revolution.  The  name  I  gave  was  his 
— Kalonay's." 

Barrat  threw  himself  forward  in  his  chair. 

"Kalonay's?"  he  cried,  incredulously. 

"Kalonay's?"  echoed  Erhaupt.  "What  mad- 
ness,  Madame!  Why  name  the  only  one  who  is 
sincere  ?" 


The  King's  Jackal 

"She  will  explain/'  said  the  King,  in  an  uneasy 
voice;  "let  her  explain.  She  has  acted  according 
to  my  orders  and  for  the  best,  but  I  confess  I " 

"Some  one  had  to  be  sacrificed,"  returned  the 
woman,  boldly,  "and  why  not  he?  Indeed,  if  we 
wish  to  save  ourselves,  there  is  every  reason  that 
it  should  be  he.  You  know  how  mad  he  is  for  the 
King's  return,  how  he  himself  wishes  to  get  back 
to  the  island  and  to  his  old  position  there.  Why, 
God  only  knows,  but  it  is  so.  What  pleasure  he 
finds  in  a  land  of  mists  and  fogs,  in  a  ruined  castle 
with  poachers  and  smuggling  fishermen  for  com 
panions,  I  cannot  comprehend.  But  the  fact  re 
mains,  he  always  speaks  of  it  as  home  and  he  wishes 
to  return.  And  now,  suppose  he  learns  the  truth, 
as  he  may  at  any  moment,  and  discovers  that  the 
whole  expedition  for  which  he  is  staking  his  soul 
and  life  is  a  trick,  a  farce;  that  we  use  it  only  as  a 
bait  to  draw  money  from  the  old  nobility,  and  to 
frighten  the  Republic  into  paying  us  to  leave  them 
in  peace?  How  do  we  know  what  he  might  not 
do?  He  may  tell  the  whole  of  Europe.  He  may 
turn  on  you  and  expose  you,  and  then  what  have 
we  left?  It  is  your  last  chance.  It  is  our  last 
chance.  We  have  tried  everything  else,  and  we 
cannot  show  ourselves  in  Europe,  at  least  not  with 
out  money  in  our  hands.  But  by  naming  Kalonay 

20 


The  King's  Jackal 

I  have  managed  it  so  that  we  have  only  to  show 
the  written  agreement  I  have  made  with  the  Re 
public  and  he  is  silenced.  In  it  they  have  promised 
to  pay  the  Prince  Kalonay,  naming  him  in  full, 
300,000  francs  if  the  expedition  is  withdrawn. 
That  agreement  is  in  my  hands,  and  that  is  our 
answer  to  whatever  he  may  think  or  say.  Our 
word  is  as  good  as  his,  or  as  bad;  we  are  all  of  the 
same  party  as  far  as  Europe  cares,  and  it  becomes 
a  falling  out  among  thieves,  and  we  are  equal." 

Baron  Barrat  leaned  forward  and  marked  each 
word  with  a  movement  of  his  hand. 

"Do  I  understand  you  to  say,"  he  asked,  "that 
you  have  a  paper  signed  by  the  Republic  agreeing 
to  pay  300,000  francs  to  Kalonay?  Then  how  are 
we  to  get  it?"  he  demanded,  incredulously.  "From 
him?" 

"It  is  made  payable  to  him,"  continued  the 
woman,  "or  to  whoever  brings  this  ring  I  wear  to 
the  banking-house  of  the  Schlevingens  two  weeks 
after  the  expedition  has  left  the  island.  I  ex 
plained  that  clause  to  them  by  saying  that  Kalonay 
and  I  were  working  together  against  the  King, 
and  as  he  might  be  suspicious  if  we  were  both  to 
leave  him  so  soon  after  the  failure  of  the  expedi 
tion  we  would  be  satisfied  if  they  gave  the  money 
to  whichever  one  first  presented  the  ring.  Suppose 

21 


The  King's  Jackal 

I  had  said,"  she  went  on,  turning  to  the  King, 
"that  it  was  either  Barrat  or  the  Colonel  here  who 
had  turned  traitor.  They  know  the  Baron  of  old, 
when  he  was  Chamberlain  and  ran  your  roulette 
wheel  at  the  palace.  They  know  he  is  not  the  man 
to  turn  back  an  expedition.  And  the  Colonel,  if 
he  will  pardon  me,  has  sold  his  services  so  often  to 
one  side  or  another  that  it  would  have  been  difficult 
to  make  them  believe  that  this  time  he  is  sincere. 
But  Kalonay,  the  man  they  fear  most  next  to  your 
Majesty — to  have  him  turn  traitor,  why,  that  was 
a  master  stroke.  Even  those  boors,  stupid  as  they 
are,  saw  that.  When  they  made  out  the  agreement 
they  put  down  all  his  titles,  and  laughed  as  they 
wrote  them  in.  'Prince  Judas'  they  called  him, 
and  they  were  in  ecstasies  at  the  idea  of  the  aristo 
crat  suing  for  blood-money  against  his  sovereign, 
of  the  man  they  feared  showing  himself  to  be  only 
a  common  blackmailer.  It  delighted  them  to  find 
a  prince  royal  sunk  lower  than  themselves,  this 
man  who  has  treated  them  like  curs — like  the  curs 
they  are,"  she  broke  out  suddenly — "like  the  curs 
they  are!" 

She  rose  and  laughed  uneasily  as  though  at  her 
own  vehemence. 

"I  am  tired,"  she  said,  avoiding  the  King's  eyes; 
"the  trip  has  tired  me.  If  you  will  excuse  me,  I 

22 


The  King's  Jackal 

will  go  to  my  rooms — through  your  hall-way,  if 
I  may." 

"Most  certainly,"  said  the  King.  "I  trust  you 
will  be  rested  by  dinner-time.  Au  revoir,  my  fair 
ambassadrice." 

The  woman  nodded  and  smiled  back  at  him 
brightly,  and  Louis  continued  to  look  after  her 
as  she  disappeared  down  the  corridor.  He  rubbed 
the  back  of  his  fingers  across  his  lips,  and  thought 
fully  examined  his  finger-nails. 

"I  wonder,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  looking  up 
at  Barrat.  The  Baron  raised  his  eyebrows  with  a 
glance  of  polite  interrogation. 

*'I  wonder  if  Kalonay  dared  to  make  love  to 
her  on  the  way  down." 

The  Baron's  face  became  as  expressionless  as  a 
death-mask,  and  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  in  pro 
test. 

" — Or  did  she  make  love  to  Kalonay?"  the 
King  insisted,  laughing  gently.  "I  wonder  now. 
I  do  not  care  to  know,  but  I  wonder." 

According  to  tradition  the  Kalonay  family  was 
an  older  one  than  that  of  the  House  of  Artois,  and 
its  name  had  always  been  the  one  next  in  impor 
tance  to  that  of  the  reigning  house.  The  history 
of  Messina  showed  that  different  members  of  the 
Kalonay  family  had  fought  and  died  for  different 

23 


The  King's  Jackal 

kings  of  Artois,  and  had  enjoyed  their  favor  and 
shared  their  reverses  with  equal  dignity,  and  that 
they  had  stood  like  a  rampart  when  the  kingdom 
was  invaded  by  the  levelling  doctrines  of  Repub 
licanism  and  equality.  And  though  the  Kalonays 
were  men  of  stouter  stuff  than  their  cousins  of  Ar 
tois,  they  had  never  tried  to  usurp  their  place,  but 
had  set  an  example  to  the  humblest  shepherd  of 
unfailing  loyalty  and  good-will  to  the  King  and  his 
lady.  The  Prince  Kalonay,  who  had  accompanied 
the  Dominican  monk  to  Messina,  was  the  last  of 
his  race,  and  when  Louis  IV.  had  been  driven  off 
the  island,  he  had  followed  his  sovereign  into  exile 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  with  his  customary  good- 
humor.  His  estates,  in  consequence  of  this  step, 
had  been  taken  up  by  the  Republic,  and  Kalonay 
had  accepted  the  loss  philosophically  as  the  price 
one  pays  for  loving  a  king.  He  found  exile  easy 
to  bear  in  Paris,  and  especially  so  as  he  had  never 
relinquished  me  idea  that  some  day  the  King 
would  return  to  his  own  again.  So  firmly  did  he 
believe  in  this,  and  so  keenly  was  his  heart  set 
upon  it,  that  Louis  had  never  dared  to  let  him 
know  that  for  himself  exile  in  Paris  and  the 
Riviera  was  vastly  to  be  preferred  to  authority 
over  a  rocky  island  hung  with  fogs,  and  inhabited 
by  dull  merchants  and  fierce  banditti. 

24 


The  King's  Jackal 

The  conduct  of  the  King  during  their  residence 
in  Paris  would  have  tried  the  loyalty  of  one  less 
gay  and  careless  than  Kalonay,  for  he  was  a  sorry 
monarch,  and  if  the  principle  that  "the  King  can 
do  no  wrong"  had  not  been  bred  in  the  young 
Prince's  mind,  he  would  have  deserted  his  sover 
eign  in  the  early  days  of  their  exile.  But  as  it  was, 
he  made  excuses  for  him  to  others  and  to  himself, 
and  served  the  King's  idle  purposes  so  well  that  he 
gained  for  himself  the  name  of  the  King's  Jackal, 
and  there  were  some  who  regarded  him  as  little 
better  than  the  King's  confidential  blackguard,  and 
man  Friday,  the  weakest  if  the  most  charming  of 
his  court  of  adventurers. 

At  the  first  hint  which  the  King  gave  of  his  de 
sire  to  place  himself  again  in  power,  Kalonay  had 
ceased  to  be  his  Jackal  and  would  have  issued 
forth  as  a  commander-in-chief,  had  the  King  per 
mitted  him;  but  it  was  not  to  Louis's  purpose  that 
the  Prince  should  know  the  real  object  of  the  ex 
pedition,  so  he  assigned  its  preparation  to  Erhaupt, 
and  despatched  Kalonay  to  the  south  of  the  island. 
At  the  same  time  Madame  Zara  had  been  sent  to 
the  north  of  the  island,  ostensibly  to  sound  the  sen 
timent  of  the  old  nobility,  but  in  reality  to  make 
capital  out  of  the  presence  there  of  Kalonay  and 
Father  Paul. 

25 


The  King's  Jackal 

The  King  rose  hurriedly  when  the  slim  figure  of 
the  Prince  and  the  broad  shoulders  and  tonsured 
head  of  the  monk  appeared  at  the  farthest  end  of 
the  garden-walk. 

"They  are  coming!"  he  cried,  with  a  guilty 
chuckle;  "so  I  shall  run  away  and  finish  dressing. 
I  leave  you  to  receive  the  first  shock  of  Kalonay's 
enthusiasm  alone.  I  confess  he  bores  me.  Re 
member,  the  story  Madame  Zara  told  them  in  the 
yacht  is  the  one  she  told  us  this  morning,  that  none 
of  the  old  royalists  at  the  capital  would  prom 
ise  us  any  assistance.  Be  careful  now,  and  play 
your  parts  prettily.  We  are  all  terribly  in  ear 
nest." 

Kalonay's  enthusiasm  had  not  spent  itself  en 
tirely  before  the  King  returned.  He  had  still  a 
number  of  amusing  stories  to  tell,  and  he  reviewed 
the  adventures  of  the  monk  and  himself  with  such 
vivacity  and  humor  that  the  King  nodded  his  head 
in  delight,  and  even  the  priest  smiled  indulgently 
at  the  recollection. 

Kalonay  had  seated  himself  on  one  of  the  tables, 
with  his  feet  on  a  chair  and  with  a  cigarette  burn 
ing  between  his  fingers.  He  was  a  handsome,  dark 
young  man  of  thirty,  with  the  impulsive  manner  of 
a  boy.  Dissipation  had  left  no  trace  on  his  face, 
.and  his  eyes  were  as  innocent  of  evil  and  as  beauti- 

26 


The  King's  Jackal 

nothing,"  she  said.  "With  you  men  it  is  different. 
You  are  all  risking  something.  You  are  actually 
helping,  while  I  must  sit  still  and  wait.  I  hope, 
Father,"  she  said,  smiling,  "it  is  not  wrong  for  me 
to  wish  I  were  a  man." 

"Wrong!"  exclaimed  Kalonay,  in  a  tone  of 
mock  dismay;  "of  course  it's  wrong.  It's  wicked." 

The  monk  turned  and  looked  coldly  over  his 
shoulder  at  Kalonay,  and  the  Prince  laughed. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  "but  we  are  told 
to  be  contented  with  our  lot,"  he  argued,  impeni- 
tently.  "  'He  only  is  a  slave  who  complains,'  and 
that  is  true  even  if  a  heretic  did  say  it." 

The  monk  shook  his  head  and  turned  again  to 
Miss  Carson  with  a  tolerant  smile. 

"He  is  very  young,"  he  said,  as  though  Kalonay 
did  not  hear  him,  "and  wild  and  foolish — and 
yet,"  he  added,  doubtfully,  "I  find  I  love  the  boy." 
He  regarded  the  young  man  with  a  kind  but  im 
personal  scrutiny,  as  though  he  were  a  picture  or 
a  statue.  "Sometimes  I  imagine  he  is  all  I  might 
have  been,"  he  said,  "had  not  God  given  me  the 
strength  to  overcome  myself.  He  has  never  de 
nied  himself  in  anything ;  he  is  as  wilful  and  capri 
cious  as  a  girl.  He  makes  a  noble  friend,  Miss 
Carson,  and  a  generous  enemy;  but  he  is  spoiled 
irretrievably  by  good  fortune  and  good  living  and 

39 


The  King's  Jackal 

good  health."  The  priest  looked  at  the  young 
man  with  a  certain  sad  severity.  "  'Unstable  as 
fvater,  thou  shalt  not  excel/  "  he  said. 

The  girl,  in  great  embarrassment,  turned  her 
head  away,  glancing  from  the  ocean  to  the  sky; 
but  Kalonay  seated  himself  coolly  on  the  broad 
balustrade  of  the  terrace  with  his  hands  on  his 
hips,  and  his  heels  resting  on  the  marble  tiling, 
and  clicked  the  soles  of  his  boots  together. 

"Oh,  I  have  had  my  bad  days,  too,  Father,"  he 
said.  He  turned  his  head  on  one  side,  and  pressed 
his  lips  together,  looking  down. 

"Unstable  as  water — that  is  quite  possible,"  he 
said,  with  an  air  of  consideration;  "but  spoiled  by 
good  fortune — oh,  no,  that  is  not  fair.  Do  you 
call  it  good  fortune,  sir,"  he  laughed,  "to  be  an 
exile  at  twenty-eight?  Is  it  good  fortune  to  be 
too  poor  to  pay  your  debts,  and  too  lazy  to  work; 
to  be  the  last  of  a  great  name,  and  to  have  no 
chance  to  add  to  the  glory  of  it,  and  no  means  to 
keep  its  dignity  fresh  and  secure?  Do  you  fancy 
I  like  to  see  myself  drifting  farther  and  farther 
away  from  the  old  standards  and  the  old  tradi 
tions;  to  have  English  brewers  and  German  Jew 
bankers  taking  the  place  I  should  have,  buying 
titles  with  their  earnings  and  snubbing  me  because 
I  can  only  hunt  when  someone  gives  me  a  mount, 

40 


The  King's  Jackal 

ful  as  a  girl's,  and  as  eloquent  as  his  tongue.  "May 
the  Maria  Santissima  pity  the  girls  they  look 
upon,"  his  old  Spanish  nurse  used  to  say  of  them. 
But  Kalonay  had  shown  pity  for  every  one  save 
himself.  His  training  at  an  English  public  school, 
and  later  as  a  soldier  in  the  Ecole  Polytechnique 
at  Paris,  had  saved  him  from  a  too  early  fall,  and 
men  liked  him  instinctively,  and  the  women  much 
too  well. 

"It  was  good  to  be  back  there  again,"  he  cried, 
with  a  happy  sigh.  "It  was  good  to  see  the  clouds 
following  each  other  across  the  old  mountains  and 
throwing  black  shadows  on  the  campagna,  and  to 
hear  the  people's  patois  and  to  taste  Messinian 
wine  again  and  to  know  it  was  from  your  own  hill 
side.  All  our  old  keepers  came  down  to  the  coast 
to  meet  us,  and  told  me  about  the  stag-hunt  the 
week  before,  and  who  was  married,  and  who  was  in 
jail,  and  who  had  been  hanged  for  shooting  a  cus 
toms  officer,  and  they  promised  fine  deer  stalking 
if  I  get  back  before  the  snow  leaves  the  ridges,  for 
they  say  the  deer  have  not  been  hunted  and  are 
running  wild."  He  stopped  and  laughed.  "I  for 
got,"  he  said,  "your  Majesty  does  not  care  for  the 
rude  pleasures  of  my  half  of  the  island."  Kalonay 
threw  away  his  cigarette,  clasping  his  hands  before 
him  with  a  sudden  change  of  manner. 

27 


The  King's  Jackal 

"But  seriously,"  he  cried,  uas  I  have  been  tell 
ing  them — I  wish  your  Majesty  could  have  heard 
the  offers  they  made  us,  and  could  have  seen  the 
tears  running  down  their  faces  when  we  assured 
them  that  you  would  return.  I  wished  a  thousand 
times  that  we  had  brought  you  with  us.  With  you 
at  our  head  we  can  sweep  the  island  from  one  end 
to  the  other.  We  will  gather  strength  and  force 
as  we  go,  as  a  landslide  grows,  and  when  we  reach 
the  capital  we  will  strike  it  like  a  human  ava 
lanche. 

"And  I  wish  you  could  have  heard  him 
speak,'1  Kalonay  cried,  his  enthusiasm  rising  as 
he  turned  and  pointed  with  his  hand  at  the 
priest.  "There  is  the  leader!  He  made  my 
blood  turn  hot  with  his  speeches,  and  when  he 
had  finished  I  used  to  find  myself  standing  on 
my  tiptoes  and  shouting  with  the  rest.  With 
out  him  I  could  have  done  nothing.  They  knew 
me  too  well;  but  the  laziest  rascals  in  the  village 
.came  to  welcome  him  again,  and  the  women  and 
men  wept  before  him  and  brought  their  children 
to  be  blessed,  and  fell  on  their  knees  and  kissed 
his  sandals.  It  was  like  the  stories  they  tell  you 
when  you  are  a  child.  He  made  us  sob  with  re 
gret  and  he  filled  us  with  fresh  resolves.  Oh,  it  is 
very  well  for  you  to  smile,  you  old  cynics, *  he 

28 


The  King's  Jackal 

cried,  smiling  at  his  own  fervor,  "but  I  tell  you, 
I  have  lived  since  I  saw  you  last  I" 

The  priest  stood  silent  with  his  hands  hidden 
inside  his  great  sleeves,  and  his  head  rising  erect 
and  rigid  from  his  cowl.  The  eyes  of  the  men 
were  turned  upon  him  curiously,  and  he  glanced 
from  one  to  the  other,  as  though  mistrusting  their 
sympathy. 

"It  was  not  me — it  was  the  Church  they  came 
to  welcome.  The  fools,"  he  cried  bitterly,  "they 
thought  they  could  destroy  the  faith  of  the  people 
by  banishing  the  servants  of  the  Church.  As  soon 
end  a  mother's  love  for  her  children  by  putting 
an  ocean  between  them.  For  six  years  those  peas 
ants  have  been  true.  I  left  them  faithful,  I  re 
turned  to  find  them  faithful.  And  now — "  he  con 
cluded,  looking  steadily  at  the  King  as  though  to 
hold  him  to  account,  "and  now  they  are  to  have 
their  reward." 

The  King  bowed  his  head  gravely  in  assent. 
"They  are  to  have  their  reward,"  he  repeated. 
He  rose  and  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  invited  the 
priest  to  follow  him,  and  they  walked  together  to 
the  other  end  of  the  terrace.  When  they  were  out 
of  hearing  of  the  others  the  King  seated  himself, 
and  the  priest  halted  beside  his  chair, 

"I  wish  to  speak  with  you,  father,"  Louis  said, 
29 


The  King's  Jackal 

"concerning  this  young  American  girl,  Miss  Car 
son,  who  has  promised  to  help  us — to  help  you — 
with  her  money.  Has  she  said  yet  how  much  she 
means  to  give  us,"  asked  the  King,  "and  when  she 
means  to  let  us  have  it?  It  is  a  delicate  matter, 
and  I  do  not  wish  to  urge  the  lady,  but  we  are 
really  greatly  in  need  of  money.  Baron  Barrat, 
who  arrived  from  Paris  this  morning,  brings  back 
no  substantial  aid,  although  the  sympathy  of  the 
old  nobility,  he  assures  me,  is  with  us.  Sympathy, 
however,  does  not  purchase  Maxim  guns,  nor  pay 
for  rations,  and  Madame  Zara's  visit  to  the  capital 
was,  as  you  know,  even  less  successful." 

"Your  Majesty  has  seen  Miss  Carson,  then?" 
the  priest  asked. 

"Yes,  her  mother  and  she  have  been  staying  at 
the  Continental  ever  since  they  followed  you  here 
from  Paris,  and  I  have  seen  her  once  or  twice  dur 
ing  your  absence.  The  young  lady  seems  an  ear 
nest  daughter  of  our  faith,  and  she  is  deeply  in 
sympathy  with  our  effort  to  re-establish  your  order 
and  the  influence  of  the  Church  upon  the  island. 
I  have  explained  to  her  that  the  only  way  in  which 
the  Church  can  regain  her  footing  there  is  through 
my  return  to  the  throne,  and  Miss  Carson  has 
hinted  that  she  is  willing  to  make  even  a  larger 
contribution  than  the  one  she  first  mentioned.  If 

30 


The  King's  Jackal 

she  means  to  do  this,  it  would  be  well  if  she  diet 


it  at  once." 


"Perhaps  I  have  misunderstood  her,"  said  the" 
priest,  after  a  moment's  consideration;  "but  I 
thought  the  sum  she  meant  to  contribute  was  to  be 
given  only  after  the  monarchy  has  been  formally' 
established,  and  that  she  wished  whatever  she  gave 
to  be  used  exclusively  in  rebuilding  the  churches 
and  the  monastery.  I  do  not  grudge  it  to  your 
Majesty's  purpose,  but  so  I  understood  her." 

"Ah,  that  is  quite  possible,"  returned  Louis, 
easily;  "it  may  be  that  she  did  so  intend  at  first, 
but  since  I  have  talked  with  her  she  has  shown 
a  willing  disposition  to  aid  us  not  only  later,  but 
now.  My  success  means  your  success,"  he  con 
tinued,  smiling  pleasantly  as  he  rose  to  his  feet, 
"so  I  trust  you  will  urge  her  to  be  prompt.  She 
seems  to  have  unlimited  resources  in  her  own  right. 
Do  you  happen  to  know  from  whence  her  money 
comes?" 

"Her  mother  told  me,"  said  the  priest,  "that 
Mr.  Carson  before  his  death  owned  mines  and  rail 
roads.  They  live  in  California,  near  the  Mission 
of  Saint  Francis.  I  have  written  concerning  them 
to  the  Father  Superior  there,  and  he  tells  me  that 
Mr.  Carson  died  a  very  rich  man,  and  that  he  was 
a  generous  servant  of  the  Church.  His  daughter 


The  King's  Jackal 

has  but  just  inherited  her  father's  fortune,  and  her 
one  idea  of  using  it  is  to  give  it  to  the  Church,  as 
he  would  have  done." 

The  priest  paused  and  seemed  to  consider  what 
the  King  had  just  told  him.  "I  will  speak  with 
her,"  he  said,  "and  ask  her  aid  as  fully  as  she  can 
give  it.  May  I  inquire  how  far  your  Majesty  has 
taken  her  into  our  plans?" 

"Miss  Carson  is  fully  informed,"  the  King  re 
plied  briefly.  "And  if  you  wish  to  speak  with  her 
you  can  see  her  now ;  she  and  her  mother  are  com 
ing  to  breakfast  with  me  to  hear  the  account  of 
your  visit  to  the  island.  You  can  speak  with  her 
then — and,  father,"  the  King  added,  lowering  his 
eyes  and  fingering  the  loose  sleeve  of  the  priest's 
robe,  "it  would  be  well,  I  think,  to  have  this  pres 
entation  of  the  young  nobles  immediately  after 
the  luncheon,  while  Miss  Carson  is  still  present. 
We  might  even  make  a  little  ceremony  of  it, 
and  so  show  her  that  she  is  fully  in  our  confi 
dence — that  she  is  one  of  our  most  valued  sup 
porters.  It  might  perhaps  quicken  her  interest 
in  the  cause." 

"I  see  no  reason  why  that  should  not  be,"  said 
the  priest,  thoughtfully,  turning  his  eyes  to  the  sea 
below  them.  "Madame  Zara,"  he  added,  without 
moving  his  eyes,  "will  not  be  prestnt." 

32 


The  King's  Jackal 

The  King  straightened  himself  slightly,  and  for 
a  brief  moment  of  time  looked  at  the  priest  in  si 
lence,  but  the  monk  continued  to  gaze  steadily  at 
the  blue  waters. 

"Madame  Zara  will  not  be  present,"  the  King 
repeated,  coldly. 

"There  are  a  few  fishermen  and  mountaineers, 
your  Majesty,"  the  priest  continued,  turning  an 
unconscious  countenance  to  the  King,  "who  came 
back  with  us  from  the  island.  They  come  as  a 
deputation  to  inform  your  Majesty  of  the  welcome 
that  waits  you,  and  I  have  promised  them  an  audi 
ence.  If  you  will  pardon  me  I  would  suggest  that 
you  receive  these  honest  people  at  the  same  time 
with  the  others,  and  that  his  Highness  the  Crown 
Prince  be  also  present,  and  that  he  receive  them 
with  you.  Their  anxiety  to  see  him  is  only  second 
to  their  desire  to  speak  to  your  Majesty.  You  will 
find  some  of  your  most  loyal  subjects  among  these 
men.  Their  forefathers  have  been  faithful  to 
your  house  and  to  the  Church  for  many  genera 
tions." 

"Excellent,"  said  the  King;  "I  shall  receive  them 
immediately  after  the  deputation  from  Paris.  Con 
sult  with  Baron  Barrat  and  Kalonay,  please,  about 
the  details.  I  wish  either  Kalonay  or  yourself  to 
make  the  presentation.  I  see  Miss  Carson  and 

33 


The  King's  Jackal 

her  mother  coming.    After  luncheon,  then,  at,  say8 
three  o'clock — will  that  be  satisfactory  ?" 

"As  your  Majesty  pleases,"  the  priest  answered^ 
and  with  a  bow  he  strode  across  the  terrace  to 
where  Kalonay  stood  watching  them. 


II 

Mrs.  Carson  and  her  daughter  came  from 
the  hotel  to  the  terrace  through  the  hallway 
which  divided  the  King's  apartments.  Baron 
Barrat  preceded  them  and  they  followed  in  single 
file,  Miss  Carson  walking  first.  It  was  a  position 
her  mother  always  forced  upon  her,  and  after 
people  grew  to  know  them  they  accepted  it  as  illus 
trating  Mrs.  Carson's  confidence  in  her  daughter's 
ability  to  care  for  herself,  as  well  as  her  own  wish 
to  remain  in  the  background. 

Patricia  Carson,  as  she  was  named  after  her 
patron  saint,  or  " Patty"  Carson,  as  she  was  called 
more  frequently,  was  an  exceedingly  pretty  girl. 
She  was  tall  and  fair,  with  a  smile  that  showed  such 
confidence  in  everyone  she  met  that  few  could  find 
the  courage  to  undeceive  her  by  being  themselves, 
and  it  was  easier,  in  the  face  of  such  an  appeal  as 
her  eyes  made  to  the  best  in  every  one,  for  each 
to  act  a  part  while  he  was  with  her.  She  was 
young,  impressionable,  and  absolutely  inexperi 
enced.  As  a  little  girl  she  had  lived  on  a  great 
ranch,  where  she  could  gallop  from  sunrise  to  sun- 

35 


The  King's  Jackal 

set  over  her  own  prairie  land,  and  later  her  life 
had  been  spent  in  a  convent  outside  of  Paris.  She 
had  but  two  great  emotions,  her  love  for  her  father 
and  for  the  Church  which  had  nursed  her.  Her 
father's  death  had  sanctified  him  and  given  him  a 
place  in  her  heart  that  her  mother  could  not  hold, 
and  when  she  found  herself  at  twenty-one  the  mis 
tress  of  a  great  fortune,  her  one  idea  as  to  the  dis 
posal  of  it  was  to  do  with  it  what  would  best  please 
him  and  the  Church  which  had  been  the  ruling 
power  in  the  life  of  both  of  them.  She  was  quite 
unconscious  of  her  beauty,  and  her  mode  of  speak 
ing  was  simple  and  eager. 

She  halted  as  she  came  near  the  King,  and  rest 
ing  her  two  hands  on  the  top  of  her  lace  parasol, 
nodded  pleasantly  to  him  and  to  the  others.  She 
neither  courtesied  nor  offered  him  her  hand,  but 
seemed  to  prefer  this  middle  course,  leaving  them 
to  decide  whether  she  acted  as  she  did  from  ig 
norance  or  from  choice. 

As  the  King  stepped  forward  to  greet  her 
mother,  Miss  Carson  passed  him  and  moved  on  to 
where  the  Father  Superior  stood  apart  from  the 
others,  talking  earnestly  with  the  Prince.  What 
he  was  saying  was  of  an  unwelcome  nature,  for 
Kalonay's  face  wore  an  expression  of  boredom  and 
polite  protest  which  changed  instantly  to  one  of 

36 


The  King's  Jackal 

delight  when  he  saw  Miss  Carson.  The  girl  hesi 
tated  and  made  a  deep  obeisance  to  the  priest. 

"I  am  afraid  I  interrupt  you,"  she  said. 

"Not  at  all,"  Kalonay  assured  her,  laughing. 
"It  is  a  most  welcome  interruption.  The  good 
father  has  been  finding  fault  with  me,  as  usual, 
and  I  am  quite  willing  to  change  the  subject." 

The  priest  smiled  kindly  on  the  girl,  and  while 
he  exchanged  some  words  of  welcome  with  her, 
Kalonay  brought  up  one  of  the  huge  wicker  chairs, 
and  she  seated  herself  with  her  back  to  the  others, 
facing  the  two  men,  who  stood  leaning  against  the 
broad  balustrade.  They  had  been  fellow-conspir 
ators  sufficiently  long  for  them  to  have  grown  to 
know  each  other  well,  and  the  priest,  so  far  from 
regarding  her  as  an  intruder,  hailed  her  at  once  as 
a  probable  ally,  and  endeavored  to  begin  again 
where  he  had  ceased  speaking. 

"Do  you  not  agree  with  me,  Miss  Carson?"  he 
asked.  "I  am  telling  the  Prince  that  zeal  is  not 
enough,  and  that  high  ideals,  unless  they  are  ac 
companied  by  good  conduct,  are  futile.  I  want 
him  to  change,  to  be  more  sober,  more  strict " 

"Oh,  you  must  not  ask  me,"  Miss  Carson  said, 
hurriedly,  smiling  and  shaking  her  head.  "We 
are  working  for  only  one  thing,  are  we  not?  Be 
yond  that  you  know  nothing  of  me,  and  I  know 

37 


The  King's  Jackal 

nothing  of  you.  I  came  to  hear  of  your  visit," 
she  continued;  "am  I  to  be  told  anything ?"  she 
asked,  eagerly,  looking  from  one  to  the  other.  "It 
has  been  such  an  anxious  two  weeks.  We  imagined 
all  manner  of  things  had  happened  to  you." 

Kalonay  laughed  happily.  "The  Father  was 
probably  never  safer  in  his  life,"  he  said.  "They 
took  us  to  their  hearts  like  brothers.  They  might 
have  suffocated  us  with  kindness,  but  we  were  in 
no  other  danger." 

"Then  you  are  encouraged,  Father?"  she  asked, 
turning  to  the  priest.  "You  found  them  loyal? 
Your  visit  was  all  you  hoped,  you  can  depend  upon 
them?" 

"We  can  count  upon  them  absolutely,"  the 
monk  assured  her.  "We  shall  start  on  our  return 
voyage  at  once,  in  a  day,  as  soon  as  his  Majesty 
gives  the  word." 

"There  are  so  many  things  I  want  to  know," 
the  girl  said;  "but  I  have  no  right  to  ask,"  she 
added,  looking  up  at  him  doubtfully. 

"You  have  every  right,"  the  monk  answered. 
"You  have  certainly  earned  it.  Without  the  help 
you  gave  us  we  could  not  have  moved.  You  have 
been  more  than  generous " 

Miss  Carson  interrupted  him  with  an  impatient 
lifting  of  her  head.  "That  sort  of  generosity  is 

38 


The  King'i  Jackal 

and  because  I  choose  to  take  a  purse  instead  of  a 
cup  when  we  shoot  at  Monte  Carlo?" 

"What  child's  talk  is  this?"  interrupted  the 
priest,  angrily.  "A  thousand  horses  canno(t  make 
a  man  noble,  nor  was  poverty  ever  ignoble.  You 
talk  like  a  weak  boy.  Every  word  you  say  is  your 
own  condemnation.  Why  should  you  complain? 
Your  bed  is  of  your  own  making.  The  other  prod 
igal  was  forced  to  herd  with  the  swine — you  have 
chosen  to  herd  with  them." 

The  girl  straightened  herself  and  half  ro?e 
from  her  chair. 

"You  are  boring  Miss  Carson  with  my  delin< 
quencies,"  said  the  Prince,  sternly.  His  face  was 
flushed,  and  he  did  not  look  either  at  the  girl  or  ?jt 
the  priest. 

"But  the  prodigal's  father?"  said  Miss  Carson, 
smiling  at  the  older  man.  "Did  he  stand  over  him 
and  upbraid  him?  You  remember,  he  went  to 
meet  him  when  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off.  That 
was  it,  was  it  not,  Father?" 

"Of  course  he  did,"  cried  Kalonay,  laughing 
like  a  boy,  and  slipping  lightly  to  the  terrace.  "He 
met  him  half  way  and  gave  him  the  best  he  had." 
He  stepped  to  Miss  Carson's  side  and  the  two 
young  people  moved  away  smiling,  and  the  priest, 
seeing  that  they  were  about  to  escape  him,  cried 

41 


The  King's  Jackal 

eagerly,  "But  that  prodigal  had  repented.  This 
one " 

"Let's  run,"  cried  the  Prince.  "He  will  get  the 
best  of  us  if  we  stay.  He  always  gets  the  best  of 
me.  He  has  been  abusing  me  that  way  for  two 
weeks  now,  and  he  is  always  sorry  afterward.  Let 
us  leave  him  alone  to  his  sorrow  and  remorse." 

Kalonay  walked  across  the  terrace  with  Miss 
Carson,  bending  above  her  with  what  would  have 
seemed  to  an  outsider  almost  a  proprietary  right. 
She  did  not  appear  to  notice  it,  but  looked  at  him 
frankly  and  listened  to  what  he  had  to  say  with 
interest.  He  was  speaking  rapidly,  and  as  he 
spoke  he  glanced  shyly  at  her  as  though  seeking 
her  approbation,  and  not  boldly,  as  he  was  accus 
tomed  to  do  when  he  talked  with  either  men  or 
women.  To  look  at  her  with  admiration  was  such 
a  cheap  form  of  appreciation,  and  one  so  distaste 
ful  to  her,  that  had  he  known  it,  Kalonay' s  averted 
eyes  were  more  of  a  compliment  than  any  words 
he  could  have  spoken.  His  companions  who  had 
seen  him  with  other  women  knew  that  his  manner 
to  her  was  not  his  usual  manner,  and  that  he  gave 
her  something  he  did  not  give  to  the  others;  that 
he  was  more  discreet  and  less  ready,  and  less  at 
ease. 

The  Prince  Kalonay  had  first  met  Miss  Carson 
42 


The  King's  Jackal 

and  her  mother  by  chance  in  Paris,  at  the  rooms 
of  Father  Paul,  where  they  had  each  gone  on  the 
same  errand,  and  since  that  meeting  his  whole 
manner  toward  the  two  worlds  in  which  he  lived 
had  altered  so  strangely  that  mere  acquaintances 
noticed  the  change. 

Before  he  had  met  her,  the  little  the  priest  had 
said  concerning  her  and  her  zeal  for  their  common 
desire  had  piqued  his  curiosity,  and  his  imagination 
had  been  aroused  by  the  picture  of  a  romantic 
young  woman  giving  her  fortune  to  save  the  souls 
of  the  people  of  Messina;  his  people  whom  he  re 
garded  and  who  regarded  him  less  as  a  feudal  lord 
than  as  a  father  and  a  comrade.  He  had  pictured 
her  as  a  nervous,  angular  woman  with  a  pale, 
ascetic  face,  and  with  the  restless  eyes  of  an  enthu 
siast,  dressed  in  black  and  badly  dressed,  and  with 
a  severe  and  narrow  intelligence.  But  he  had  pre 
pared  himself  to  forgive  her  personality,  for  the 
sake  of  the  high  and  generous  impulse  that  in 
spired  her.  And  when  he  was  presented  to  her  as 
she  really  was,  and  found  her  young,  lovable,  and 
nobly  fair,  the  shock  of  wonder  and  delight  had 
held  him  silent  during  the  whole  course  of  her  in 
terview  with  the  priest,  and  when  she  had  left 
them  his  brain  was  in  a  tumult  and  was  filled  with 
memories  of  her  words  and  gestures,  and  of  the 

43 


The  King's  Jackal 

sweet  fearlessness  of  her  manner.  Beautiful 
women  he  had  known  before  as  beautiful  women, 
but  the  saving  grace  in  his  nature  had  never  before 
been  so  deeply  roused  by  what  was  fine  as  well  as 
beautiful.  It  seemed  as  though  it  were  too  com 
plete  and  perfect.  For  he  assured  himself  that  she 
possessed  everything — those  qualities  which  he  had 
never  valued  before  because  he  believed  them  to 
be  unattainable,  and  those  others  which  he  had 
made  his  idols.  She  was  with  him,  mind  and  heart 
and  soul,  in  the  one  desire  of  his  life  that  he  took 
seriously;  she  was  of  his  religion,  she  was  more 
noble  than  his  noble  sisters,  and  she  was  more  beau 
tiful  than  the  day.  In  the  first  glow  of  the  meet 
ing  it  seemed  to  him  as  though  fate  had  called 
them  to  do  this  work  together, — she  from  the  far 
shore  of  the  Pacific,  and  he  from  his  rocky  island 
in  the  Middle  Sea.  And  he  saw  with  cruel  dis 
tinctness,  that  if  there  were  one  thing  wanting,  it 
was  himself.  He  worshipped  her  before  he  had 
bowed  his  first  good-by  to  her,  and  that  night  he 
walked  for  miles  up  and  down  the  long  lengths  of 
the  avenue  of  the  Champs-Elysees,  facing  the  great 
change  that  she  had  brought  into  his  life,  but 
knowing  himself  to  be  utterly  unfit  for  her  coming. 
He  felt  like  an  unworthy  steward  caught  at  his 
master's  return  unprepared,  with  ungirt  loins,  and 

44 


The  King's  Jackal 

unlighted  lamp.  Nothing  he  had  done  since  he 
was  a  child  gave  him  the  right  to  consider  himself 
her  equal.  He  was  not  blinded  by  the  approaches 
which  other  daughters  and  the  mothers  of  daugh 
ters  had  made  him.  He  knew  that  what  was 
enough  to  excuse  many  things  in  their  eyes  might 
find  no  apology  in  hers.  He  looked  back  with  the 
awakening  of  a  child  at  the  irrevocable  acts  in  his 
life  that  could  not  be  altered  nor  dug  up  nor  hid 
den  away.  They  marked  the  road  he  had  trodden 
like  heavy  milestones,  telling  his  story  to  every 
passer-by.  She  could  read  them,  as  everyone  else 
could  read  them.  He  had  wasted  his  substance, 
he  had  bartered  his  birthright  for  a  moment's 
pleasure;  there  was  no  one  so  low  and  despicable 
who  could  not  call  him  comrade,  to  whom  he  had 
not  given  himself  without  reserve.  There  was 
nothing  left,  and  now  the  one  thing  he  had  ever 
wanted  had  come,  and  had  found  him  like  a  bank 
rupt,  his  credit  wasted  and  his  coffers  empty.  He 
had  placed  himself  at  the  beck  and  call  of  every 
idle  man  and  woman  in  Paris,  and  he  was  as  com 
mon  as  the  great  clock-face  that  hangs  above  the 
boulevards. 

Miss  Carson's  feelings  toward  Kalonay  were 
not  of  her  own  choosing,  and  had  passed  through 
several  stages.  When  they  had  first  met  she  had 

45 


The  King's  Jackal 

thought  it  most  sad  that  so  careless  and  unprin 
cipled  a  person  should  chance  to  hold  so  important 
a  part  in  the  task  she  had  set  herself  to  do.  She 
knew  his  class  only  by  hearsay,  but  she  placed  him 
in  it,  and,  accordingly,  at  once  dismissed  him  as 
a  person  from  her  mind.  Kalonay  had  never 
shown  her  that  he  loved  her,  except  by  those  signs 
which  any  woman  can  read  and  which  no  man  can 
conceal;  but  he  did  not  make  love  to  her,  and  it 
was  that  which  first  prepossessed  her  in  his  favor. 
One  or  two  other  men  who  knew  of  her  fortune, 
and  to  whom  she  had  given  as  little  encourage 
ment  as  she  had  to  Kalonay,  had  been  less  consid 
erate.  But  his  attitude  toward  her  was  always 
that  of  a  fellow-worker  in  the  common  cause.  He 
treated  her  with  a  gratitude  for  the  help  she  meant 
to  give  his  people  which  much  embarrassed  her. 
His  seriousness  pleased  her  with  him,  seeing,  as 
she  did,  that  it  was  not  his  nature  to  be  serious, 
and  his  enthusiasm  and  love  for  his  half-civilized 
countrymen  increased  her  interest  in  them,  and  her 
liking  for  him.  She  could  not  help  but  admire  the 
way  in  which  he  accepted,  without  forcing  her  to 
make  it  any  plainer,  the  fact  that  he  held  no  place 
in  her  thoughts.  And  then  she  found  that  he  be 
gan  to  hold  more  of  a  place  in  her  thoughts  than 
she  had  supposed  any  man  could  hold  of  whom  she 

46 


The  King's  Jackal 

knew  so  little,  and  of  whom  the  little  she  knew 
was  so  ill.  She  missed  him  when  she  went  to  the 
priest's  and  found  that  he  had  not  sent  for  Kalo- 
nay  to. bear  his  part  in  their  councils;  and  at  times 
she  felt  an  unworthy  wish  to  hear  Kalonay  speak 
the  very  words  she  had  admired  him  for  keeping 
from  her.  And  at  last  she  learned  the  truth  that 
she  did  love  him,  and  it  frightened  her,  and  made 
her  miserable  and  happy.  They  had  not  seen  each 
other  since  he  had  left  Paris  for  Messina,  and 
though  they  spoke  now  only  of  his  mission  to  the 
island,  there  was  back  of  what  they  said  the  joy 
for  each  of  them  of  being  together  again  and  of 
finding  that  it  meant  so  much.  What  it  might 
mean  to  the  other,  neither  knew. 

For  some  little  time  the  King  followed  the  two 
young  people  with  his  eyes,  and  then  joined  them, 
making  signs  to  Kalonay  that  he  wished  him  to 
leave  them  together;  but  Kalonay  remained  blind 
to  his  signals,  and  Barrat,  seeing  that  it  was  not  a 
tete-a-tete,  joined  them  also.  When  he  did  so 
Kalonay  asked  the  King  for  a  word,  and  laying 
his  hand  upon  his  arm  walked  with  him  down  the 
terrace,  pointing  ostensibly  to  where  the  yacht  lay 
in  the  harbor.  Louis  answered  his  pantomime 
with  an  appropriate  gesture,  and  then  asked, 
sharply,  "Well,  what  is  it?  Why  did  you  bring 

47 


The  King's  Jackal 

me  here?    And  what  do  you  mean  by  staying  on 
when  you  see  you  are  not  wanted?" 

They  were  some  distance  from  the  others. 
Kalonay  smiled  and  made  a  slight  bow.  "Your 
Majesty,"  he  began,  with  polite  emphasis.  The 
King  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"In  the  old  days  under  similar  circumstances," 
the  Prince  continued,  with  the  air  of  a  courtier 
rather  than  that  of  an  equal,  "had  I  thought  of 
forming  an  alliance  by  marriage,  I  should  have 
come  to  your  Majesty  first  and  asked  your  gra 
cious  approval.  But  those  days  are  past,  and  we 
are  living  at  the  end  of  the  century;  and  we  do 
such  things  differently."  He  straightened  himself 
and  returned  the  King's  look  of  amused  interest 
with  one  as  cynical  as  his  own.  "What  I  wanted 
to  tell  you,  Louis,"  he  said,  quietly,  "is  that  I  mean 
to  ask  Miss  Carson  to  become  the  Princess  Kalo 
nay." 

The  King  raised  his  head  quickly  and  stared  at 
the  younger  man  with  a  look  of  distaste  and  sur 
prise.  He  gave  an  incredulous  laugh. 

"Indeed?"  he  said  at  last.  "There  was  always 
something  about  rich  women  you  could  never  re 
sist." 

The  Prince  made  his  acknowledgment  with  a 
shrug  of  his  shoulders  and  smiled  indifferently. 

48 


The  King's  Jackal 

"I  didn't  expect  you  to  understand,"  he  said. 
"It  does  seem  odd;  it's  quite  as  difficult  for  me  to 
understand  as  for  you.  I  have  been  through  it  a 
great  many  times,  and  I  thought  I  knew  all  there 
was  of  it.  But  now  it  seems  different.  No,  it  does 
not  seem  different,"  he  corrected  himself;  "it  is 
different,  and  I  love  the  lady  and  I  mean  to  ask 
her  to  do  me  the  honor  to  marry  me.  I  didn't 
expect  you  to  understand,  I  don't  care  if  you  do. 
I  only  wanted  to  warn  you." 

"Warn  me?"  interrupted  the  King,  with  an  un 
pleasant  smile.  "Indeed!  against  what?  Your 
tone  is  a  trifle  peremptory — but  you  are  interest 
ing,  most  interesting!  Kalonay  in  a  new  role, 
Kalonay  in  love !  Most  interesting  I  Warn  me 
against  what?"  he  repeated  sharply. 

"Your  Majesty  has  a  certain  manner,"  the 
Prince  began,  with  a  pretence  of  hesitation,  "a 
charm  of  manner,  I  might  say,  which  is  prover 
bial.  It  is,  we  know,  attractive  to  women.  Every 
woman  acknowledges  it.  But  your  Majesty  is 
sometimes  too  gracious.  He  permits  himself  to 
condescend  to  many  women,  to  any  woman,  to 
women  of  all  classes " 

"That  will  do,"  said  the  King;  "what  do  you 
mean  ?" 

"What  I  mean  is  this,"  said  Kalonay,  lowering 
49 


The  King's  Jackal 

his  voice  and  looking  into  the  King's  half-closed 
eyes.  "You  can  have  all  of  Miss  Carson's  money 
you  want — all  you  can  get.  I  don't  want  it.  If  I 
am  to  marry  her  at  all,  I  am  not  marrying  her  for 
her  money.  You  can't  believe  that.  It  isn't  essen 
tial  that  you  should.  But  I  want  you  to  leave  the 
woman  I  hope  to  make  my  wife  alone.  I  will 
allow  no  pretty  speeches,  nor  royal  attentions. 
She  can  give  her  money  where  she  pleases,  now 
and  always;  but  I'll  not  have  her  eyes  opened  to — 
as  you  can  open  them.  I  will  not  have  her  an 
noyed.  And  if  she  is " 

uAh,  and  if  she  is?"  challenged  the  King.  His 
eyes  were  wide  apart  now  and  his  lips  were  parted 
and  drawn  back  from  his  teeth,  like  a  snarling 
cat 

"I  shall  hold  whoever  annoys  her  responsible," 
Kalonay  concluded,  impersonally. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  during  which  the 
two  men  stood  regarding  each  other  warily. 

Then  the  King  stiffened  his  shoulders  and  placed 
his  hands  slowly  behind  his  back.  "That  sounds, 
my  dear  Kalonay,"  he  said,  "almost  like  a 
threat." 

The  younger  man  laughed  insolently.  "I  meant 
it,  too,  your  Majesty,"  he  answered,  bowing  mock 
ingly  and  backing  away. 

50 


The  King's  Jackal 

As  the  King's  guests  seated  themselves  at  his 
breakfast-table  Louis  smiled  upon  them  with  a 
gracious  glance  of  welcome  and  approval.  His 
manner  was  charmingly  condescending,  and  in  his 
appearance  there  was  nothing  more  serious  than 
an  anxiety  for  their  better  entertainment  and  a  cer 
tain  animal  satisfaction  in  the  food  upon  his  plate. 

In  reality  his  eyes  were  distributing  the  people 
at  the  table  before  him  into  elements  favorable 
or  unfavorable  to  his  plans,  and  in  his  mind  he 
shuffled  them  and  their  values  for  him  or  against 
him  as  a  gambler  arranges  and  rearranges  the 
cards  in  his  hand.  He  saw  himself  plainly  as  his 
own  highest  card,  and  Barrat  and  Erhaupt  as  will 
ing  but  mediocre  accomplices.  In  Father  Paul  and 
Kalonay  he  recognized  his  most  powerful  allies 
or  most  dangerous  foes.  Miss  Carson  meant  noth 
ing  to  him  but  a  source  from  which  he  could  draw 
the  sinews  of  war.  What  would  become  of  her 
after  the  farce  was  ended,  he  did  not  consider. 
He  was  not  capable  of  comprehending  either  her 
or  her  motives,  and  had  he  concerned  himself 
about  her  at  all,  he  would  have  probably  thought 
that  she  was  more  of  a  fool  than  the  saint  she  pre 
tended  to  be,  and  that  she  had  come  to  their  assist 
ance  more  because  she  wished  to  be  near  a  Prince 
and  a  King  than  because  she  cared  for  the  souls 


The  King's  Jackal 

of  sixty  thousand  peasants.  That  she  would  surely 
lose  her  money,  and  could  hardly  hope  to  escape 
from  them  without  losing  her  good  name,  did  not 
concern  him.  It  was  not  his  duty  to  look  after  the 
reputation  of  any  American  heiress  who  thought 
she  could  afford  to  be  unconventional.  She  had  a 
mother  to  do  that  for  her,  and  she  was  pretty 
enough,  he  concluded,  to  excuse  many  things, — 
so  pretty  that  he  wondered  if  he  might  brave  the 
.Countess  Zara  and  offer  Miss  Carson  the  atten 
tions  to  which  Kalonay  had  made  such  arrogant 
objections.  The  King  smiled  at  the  thought,  and 
let  his  little  eyes  fall  for  a  moment  on  the  tall 
figure  of  the  girl  with  its  crown  of  heavy  golden 
hair,  and  on  her  clever,  earnest  eyes.  She  was 
certainly  worth  waiting  for,  and  in  the  meanwhile 
she  was  virtually  unprotected  and  surrounded  by 
his  own  people.  According  to  his  translation  of 
her  acts,  she  had  already  offered  him  every  encour 
agement,  and  had  placed  herself  in  a  position 
which  to  his  understanding  of  the  world  could 
have  but  one  interpretation.  What  Kalonay's 
sudden  infatuation  might  mean  he  could  not  fore 
see;  whether  it  promised  good  or  threatened  evil, 
he  could  only  guess,  but  he  decided  that  the  young 
man's  unwonted  show  of  independence  of  the 
morning  must  be  punished.  His  claim  to  exclu- 


The  King's  Jackal 

sive  proprietorship  in  the  young  girl  struck  the 
King  as  amusing,  but  impertinent.  It  would  be 
easy  sailing  in  spite  of  all,  he  decided;  for  some 
where  up  above  them  in  the  hotel  sat  the  unbidden 
guest,  the  woman  against  whom  Father  Paul  had 
raised  the  ban  of  expulsion,  but  who  had,  never 
theless,  tricked  both  him  and  the  faithful  Jackal. 

The  breakfast  was  drawing  to  an  end  and  the 
faithful  Niccolas  was  the  only  servant  remaining 
in  the  room.  The  talk  had  grown  intimate  and 
touched  openly  upon  the  successful  visit  of  the  two 
ambassadors  to  the  island,  and  of  Barrat's  mis 
sion  to  Paris.  Of  Madame  Zara's  visit  to  the 
northern  half  of  the  island,  which  was  supposed  to 
have  been  less  successful,  no  mention  was  made. 

Louis  felt  as  he  listened  to  them  like  a  man  at 
a  play,  who  knows  that  at  a  word  from  him  the 
complications  would  cease,  and  that  were  he  to 
rise  in  the  stalls  and  explain  them  away,  and  point 
out  the  real  hero  and  denounce  the  villain,  the  cur 
tain  would  have  to  ring  down  on  the  instant.  He 
gave  a  little  purr  of  satisfaction,  and  again  mar 
shalled  his  chances  before  him  and  smiled  to  find 
them  good.  He  was  grandly  at  peace  with  him 
self  and  with  the  world.  Whatever  happened,  he 
was  already  richer  by  some  300,000  francs,  and 
in  a  day,  if  he  could  keep  the  American  girl  to  her 

53 


The  King's  Jackal 

promise,  would  be  as  rich  again.  When  the  farce 
of  landing  his  expedition  had  been  placed  he 
would  be  free, — free  to  return  to  his  clubs  and  to 
his  boulevards  and  boudoirs,  with  money  enough 
to  silence  the  most  insolent  among  his  creditors, 
and  with  renewed  credit;  with  even  a  certain 
glamour  about  him  of  one  who  had  dared  to  do, 
even  though  he  had  failed  in  the  doing,  who  had 
shaken  off  the  slothfulness  of  ease  and  had  chosen 
to  risk  his  life  for  his  throne  with  a  smoking  rifle 
in  his  hand,  until  a  traitor  had  turned  fortune 
against  him. 

The  King  T'as  amused  to  find  that  this  prospect 
pleased  him  vastly.  He  was  surprised  to  discover 
that,  careless  as  he  thought  himself  to  be  to  public 
opinion,  he  was  still  capable  of  caring  for  its  appro 
bation  ;  but  he  consoled  himself  for  this  weakness 
by  arguing  that  it  was  only  because  the  approba 
tion  would  be  his  by  a  trick  that  it  pleased  him  to 
think  of.  Perhaps  some  of  his  royal  cousins,  in 
the  light  of  his  bold  intent,  might  take  him  under 
their  protection  instead  of  neglecting  him  shame 
fully,  as  they  had  done  in  the  past.  His  armed 
expedition  might  open  certain  doors  to  him;  his 
name — and  he  smiled  grimly  as  he  imagined  it — 
would  ring  throughout  Europe  as  the  Soldier 
King,  as  the  modern  disciple  of  the  divine  right  of 

54 


The  King's  Jackal 

kings.  He  saw,  in  his  mind's  eye,  even  the  possi 
bility  of  a  royal  alliance  and  a  pension  from  one 
of  the  great  Powers.  No  matter  where  he  looked 
he  could  see  nothing  but  gain  to  himself,  more 
power  for  pleasure,  more  chances  of  greater  for 
tune  in  the  future,  and  while  his  lips  assented  to 
what  the  others  said,  and  his  eyes  thanked  them 
for  some  expression  of  loyalty  or  confidence,  he 
saw  himself  in  dreams  as  bright  as  an  absinthe 
drinker's,  back  in  his  beloved  Paris:  in  the 
Champs-Elysees  behind  fine  horses,  lolling  from  a 
silk  box  at  the  opera,  dealing  baccarat  at  the 
Jockey  Club,  or  playing  host  to  some  beautiful 
woman  of  the  hour,  in  the  new  home  he  would 
establish  for  her  in  the  discreet  and  leafy  borders 
of  the  Bois. 

He  had  forgotten  his  guests  and  the  moment. 
He  had  forgotten  that  there  were  difficulties  yet 
to  overcome,  and  with  a  short,  indrawn  sigh  of 
pleasure,  he  threw  back  his  head  and  smiled  arro 
gantly  upon  the  sunny  terrace  and  the  green  palms 
and  the  brilliant  blue  sea,  as  though  he  challenged 
the  whole  beautiful  world  before  him  to  do  aught 
but  minister  to  his  success  and  contribute  to  his 
pleasures. 

And  at  once,  as  though  in  answer  to  his  chal 
lenge,  a  tall,  slim  young  man  sprang  lightly  up  the 

55 


The  King's  Jackkl 

steps  of  the  terrace,  passed  the  bewildered  guards 
with  a  cheery  nod,  and,  striding  before  the  open 
windows,  knocked  with  his  fist  upon  the  portals  of 
the  door,  as  sharply  and  as  confidently  as  though 
the  King's  shield  had  hung  there,  and  he  had 
struck  it  with  a  lance. 

The  King's  dream  shattered  and  faded  away  at 
the  sound,  and  he  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair.  He 
had  the  gambler's  superstitious  regard  for  trifles, 
and  this  invasion  of  his  privacy  by  a  confident 
stranger  filled  him  with  sudden  disquiet. 

He  saw  Kalonay  staring  at  the  open  windows 
with  an  expression  of  astonishment  and  dismay. 

"Who  is  it?"  the  King  asked,  peevishly.  "What 
are  you  staring  at?  How  did  he  get  in?" 

Kalonay  turned  on  Barrat,  sitting  at  his  right. 
"Did  you  see  him?"  he  asked.  Barrat  nodded 
gloomily. 

"The  devil!"  exclaimed  the  Prince,  as  though 
Barrat  had  confirmed  his  guess.  "I  beg  your  par 
don,"  he  said,  nodding  his  head  toward  the 
women.  He  pushed  back  his  chair  and  stood  ir 
resolutely  with  his  napkin  in  his  hand.  "Tell  him 
we  are  not  in,  Niccolas,"  he  commanded. 

"He  saw  us  as  he  passed  the  window,"  the 
Baron  objected. 

"Say  we  are  at  breakfast  then.  I  will  see  him 
56 


The  King's  Jackal 

myself  in  a  moment.  What  shall  I  tell  him?"  he 
asked,  turning  to  Barrat.  "Do  you  think  he 
knows?  He  must  know,  they  have  told  him  in 
Paris." 

"You  are  keeping  us  waiting,"  said  the  King. 
4 What  is  it?  Who  is  this  man?" 

"An  American  named  Gordon.  He  is  a  corre 
spondent,"  Kalonay  answered,  without  turning  his 
head.  His  eyes  were  still  fixed  on  the  terrace  as 
though  he  had  seen  a  ghost. 

The  King  slapped  his  hand  on  the  arm  of  the 
chair.  "You  promised  me,"  he  said,  "that  we 
should  be  free  from  that  sort  of  thing.  That  is 
why  I  agreed  to  come  here  instead  of  going  to 
Algiers.  Go  out,  Barrat,  and  send  him  away." 

Barrat  pressed  his  lips  together  and  shook  his 
head. 

"You  can't  send  him  away  like  that,"  he  said. 
"He  is  a  very  important  young  man." 

"Find  out  how  much  he  will  take,  then,"  ex 
claimed  the  King,  angrily,  "and  give  it  to  him.  I 
can  better  afford  to  pay  blackmail  to  any  amount 
than  have  my  plans  spoiled  now  by  the  newspa 
pers.  Give  him  what  he  wants — a  fur  coat — they 
always  wear  fur  coats — or  five  thousand  francs,  or 
something — anything — but  get  rid  of  him." 

Barrat  stirred  uneasily  in  his  chair  and  shrugged 
57 


The  King's  Jackal 

his  shoulders.  "He  is  not  a  boulevard  journalist," 
he  replied,  sulkily. 

"Your  Majesty  is  thinking  of  the  Hungarian 
Jews  at  Vienna, "  explained  Kalonay,  "who  live  on 
chantage  and  the  Monte  Carlo  propaganda  fund. 
This  man  is  not  in  their  class;  he  is  not  to  be 
bought.  I  said  he  was  an  American." 

"An  American!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Carson  and 
her  daughter,  exchanging  rapid  glances.  "Is  it 
Archie  Gordon  you  mean?"  the  girl  asked.  "1 
thought  he  was  in  China." 

"That  is  the  man — Archie  Gordon.  He  writes 
books  and  explores  places,"  Kalonay  answered. 

"I  know  him.  He  wrote  a  book  on  the  slave 
trade  in  the  Congo,"  contributed  Colonel  Erhaupt. 
"I  met  him  at  Zanziban  What  does  he  want  with 
us?" 

"He  was  in  Yokohama  when  the  Japanese- 
Chinese  war  broke  out,"  said  Kalonay,  turning  to 
the  King,  "and  he  cabled  a  London  paper  he  would 
follow  the  war  for  it  if  they  paid  him  a  hundred 
a  week.  He  meant  American  dollars,  but  they 
thought  he  meant  pounds,  so  they  cabled  back  that 
they'd  pay  one-half  that  sum.  He  answered,  'One 
hundred  or  nothing,'  and  they  finally  assented  to 
that,  and  he  started ;  and  when  the  first  week's  re 
mittance  arrived,  and  he  received  five  hundred  dol- 


The  King's  Jackal 

lars  instead  of  the  one  hundred  he  expected,  he 
sent  back  the  difference." 

"What  a  remarkable  young  man!"  exclaimed 
the  King.  "He  is  much  too  good  for  daily  wear. 
We  don't  want  anyone  like  that  around  here,  do 
we?" 

"I  know  Mr.  Gordon  very  well,"  said  Miss 
Carson.  "He  lived  in  San  Francisco  before  he 
came  East.  He  was  always  at  our  house,  and  was 
a  great  friend  of  the  family;  wasn't  he,  mother? 
We  haven't  seen  him  for  two  years  now,  but  I 
know  he  wouldn't  spoil  our  plans  for  the  sake  of 
his  paper,  if  he  knew  we  were  in  earnest,  if  he  un 
derstood  that  everything  depended  upon  its  being 
kept  a  secret." 

"We  are  not  certain  that  he  knows  anything," 
the  King  urged.  "He  may  not  have  come  here  to 
see  us.  I  think  Father  Paul  should  talk  with  him 
first." 

"I  was  going  to  suggest,"  said  Miss  Carson, 
with  some  hesitation,  "that  if  I  spoke  to  him  I 
might  be  able  to  put  it  to  him  in  such  a  way  that 
he  would  see  how  necessary  it " 

"Oh,  excellent!"  exclaimed  the  King,  eagerly, 
and  rising  to  his  feet;  "if  you  only  would  be  so 
kind,  Miss  Carson." 

Kalonay,  misunderstanding  the  situation  alto- 
59 


The  King's  Jackal 

gether,  fastened  his  eyes  upon  the  table  and  did 
not  speak. 

"He  has  not  come  to  see  you,  Patricia,"  said 
Mrs.  Carson,  quietly. 

"He  does  not  know  that  I  am  here,"  Miss  Car 
son  answered;  "but  I'm  sure  if  he  did  he  would 
be  very  glad  to  see  us  again.  And  if  we  do  see 
him  we  can  make  him  promise  not  to  do  anything 
that  might  interfere  with  our  plans.  Won't  you 
let  me  speak  to  him,  mother?" 

Mrs.  Carson  turned  uncertainly  to  the  priest  for 
direction,  and  his  glance  apparently  reassured  her, 
for  she  rose,  though  still  with  a  troubled  counte 
nance,  and  the  two  women  left  the  room  together, 
the  men  standing  regarding  each  other  anxiously 
across  the  table.  When  they  had  gone  the  King 
lit  a  cigarette  and,  turning  his  back  on  his  compan 
ions,  puffed  at  it  nervously  in  silence.  Kalonay  sat 
moodily  studying  the  pattern  on  the  plate  before 
him,  and  the  others  whispered  together  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  table. 

When  Miss  Carson  and  her  mother  stepped  out 
upon  the  terrace,  the  American  was  standing  with 
his  back  toward  them  and  was  speaking  to  the 
guards  who  sat  cross-legged  at  the  top  of  the  steps. 
They  showed  no  sign  of  surprise  at  the  fact  of  his 
addressing  them  in  their  own  tongue  further  than 

60 


The  King's  Jackal 

that  they  answered  him  with  a  show  of  respect 
which  they  had  not  exhibited  toward  those  they 
protected.  The  American  turned  as  he  heard  the 
footsteps  behind  him,  and,  after  a  startled  look  of 
astonishment,  hurried  toward  the  two  women,  ex 
claiming,  with  every  expression  of  pleasure. 

"I  had  no  idea  you  were  stopping  here,"  he  said, 
after  the  first  greetings  were  over.  "I  thought  you 
were  somewhere  on  the  Continent.  I  am  so  glad  I 
caught  you.  It  seems  centuries  since  I  saw  you 
last.  You're  looking  very  well,  Mrs.  Carson — 
and  as  for  Patty — I  am  almost  afraid  of  her — I've 
been  hearing  all  sorts  of  things  about  you  lately, 
Patty,"  he  went  on,  turning  a  smiling  countenance 
toward  the  girl.  "About  your  engagements  to 
princes  and  dukes — all  sorts  of  disturbing  rumors. 
What  a  terrible  swell  you've  grown  to  be.  I  hardly 
recognize  you  at  all,  Mrs.  Carson.  It  isn't  pos 
sible  this  is  the  same  young  girl  I  used  to  take 
buggy  riding  on  Sunday  evenings?" 

"Indeed,  it  is  not.  I  wish  it  were,"  said  Mrs. 
Carson,  plaintively,  sinking  into  a  chair.  "I'm 
glad  to  see  you're  not  changed,  Archie,"  she 
added,  with  a  sigh. 

"Why,  he's  very  much  changed,  mother,"  the 
girl  said.  "He's  taller,  and,  in  comparison  with 
what  he  was,  he's  almost  wasted  away,  and  so  sun- 

61 


The  King's  Jackal 

burned  I  hardly  knew  him.  Except  round  the 
forehead,'5  she  added,  mockingly,  "and  I  suppose 
the  sun  couldn't  burn  there  because  of  the  laurel- 
wreaths.  I  hear  they  bring  them  to  you  fresh 
every  morning." 

"They're  better  than  coronets,  at  any  rate," 
Gordon  answered,  with  a  nod.  "They're  not  so 
common.  And  if  I'm  wasted  away,  can  you  won 
der?  How  long  has  it  been  since  I  saw  you, 
Patty?" 

"No,  I'm  wrong,  he's  not  changed,"  Miss  Car 
son  said  dryly,  as  she  seated  herself  beside  her 
mother. 

"How  do  you  two  come  to  be  stopping  here?" 
the  young  man  asked.  "I  thought  this  hotel  had 
been  turned  over  to  King  Louis?" 

"It  has,"    Mrs.   Carson   answered.      "We   are 
staying  at  the  Continental,  on  the  hill  there.     Wf 
are  only  here  for  breakfast.    He  asked  us  to  break 
fast." 

"He?"  repeated  Gordon,  with  an  incredulous 
smile.  "Who?  Not  the  King — not  that  black 
guard?" 

Miss  Carson  raised  her  head,  and  stared  at  him 
in  silence,  and  her  mother  gave  a  little  gasp,  appar 
ently  of  relief  and  satisfaction. 

"Yes,"  Miss  Carson  answered  at  last,  coldly. 
62 


The  King's  Jackal 

"We  are  breakfasting  with  him.  What  do  you 
know  against  him?" 

Gordon  stared  at  her  with  such  genuine  aston 
ishment  that  the  girl  lowered  her  eyes,  and,  bend 
ing  forward  in  her  chair,  twirled  her  parasol  ner 
vously  between  her  fingers. 

"What  do  I  know  against  him?  Why,  Patty!" 
he  exclaimed.  "How  did  you  meet  him,  in  Heav 
en's  name?"  he  asked,  roughly.  "Have  you  been 
seen  with  him?  Have  you  known  him  long? 
Who  had  the  impudence  to  present  him?" 

Mrs.  Carson  looked  up,  now  thoroughly 
alarmed.  Her  lower  lip  was  trembling,  and  she 
twisted  her  gloved  hands  together  in  her  lap. 

"What  do  you  know  against  him?"  Miss  Car 
son  repeated,  meeting  Gordon's  look  with  one  as 
full  of  surprise  as  his  own. 

The  young  man  regarded  her  steadily  for  a  few 
moments,  and  then,  with  a  change  of  manner,  as 
though  he  now  saw  the  situation  was  much  more 
serious  than  he  had  at  first  supposed,  drew  up  a 
chair  in  front  of  the  two  women  and  seated  himself 
deliberately. 

"Has  he  borrowed  any  money  from  you  yet?" 
he  asked.  Miss  Carson's  face  flushed  crimson  and 
she  straightened  her  shoulders  and  turned  her  eyes 
away  from  Gordon  with  every  sign  of  indignation 

63 


The  King's  Jackal 

and  disapproval.  The  young  man  gave  an  ex 
clamation  of  relief. 

"No?  That's  good.  ICou  cannot  have  known 
him  so  very  long.  I  am  greatly  relieved." 

"Louis  of  Messina,"  he  began  more  gently,  "is 
the  most  unscrupulous  rascal  in  Europe.  Since 
they  turned  him  out  of  his  kingdom  he  has  lived 
by  selling  his  title  to  men  who  are  promoting  new 
brands  of  champagne  or  floating  queer  mining 
shares.  The  greater  part  of  his  income  is  depend 
ent  on  the  generosity  of  the  old  nobility  of  Mes 
sina,  and  when  they  don't  pay  him  readily  enough, 
he  levies  blackmail  on  them.  He  owes  money  to 
every  tailor  and  horse-dealer  and  hotel-keeper  in 
Europe,  and  no  one  who  can  tell  one  card  from 
another  will  play  with  him.  That  is  his  reputa 
tion.  And  to  help  him  live  up  to  it  he  has  sur 
rounded  himself  with  a  parcel  of  adventurers  as 
rascally  as  himself:  a  Colonel  Erhaupt  who  was 
dropped  from  a  German  regiment,  and  who  is  a 
Colonel  only  by  the  favor  of  the  Queen  of  Mada 
gascar;  a  retired  croupier  named  Barrat;  and  a 
fallen  angel  called  Kalonay,  a  fellow  of  the  very 
best  blood  in  Europe  and  with  the  very  worst 
morals.  They  call  him  the  King's  Jackal,  and  he 
is  one  of  the  most  delightful  blackguards  I  ever 
met.  So  is  the  King  for  that  matter,  a  most  enter' 

64 


The  King's  Jackal 

taining  individual  if  you  keep  him  in  his  place,  but 
a  man  no  woman  can  know.  In  fact,  Mrs.  Car 
son,"  Gordon  went  on,  addressing  himself  to  the 
mother,  "when  you  have  to  say  that  a  woman  has 
absolutely  no  reputation  whatever  you  can  best 
express  it  by  explaining  that  she  has  a  title  from 
Louis  of  Messina.  That  is  his  Majesty's  way  of 
treating  his  feminine  friends  when  they  bore  him 
and  he  wants  to  get  rid  of  them.  He  gives  them  a 
title. 

"The  only  thing  the  man  ever  did  that  was  to 
his  credit  and  that  could  be  discussed  in  polite  so 
ciety  is  what  he  is  doing  now  at  this  place,  at  this 
moment.  For  it  seems,"  Gordon  whispered,  draw 
ing  his  chair  closer,  "that  he  is  about  to  show  him 
self  something  of  a  man  after  all,  and  that  he  is 
engaged  in  fitting  out  an  armed  expedition  with 
which  he  hopes  to  recover  his  kingdom.  That's 
what  brought  me  here,  and  I  must  say  I  rather  ad 
mire  him  for  attempting  such  a  thing.  Of  course, 
it  was  Kalonay  who  put  him  up  to  it;  he  would 
never  have  stirred  from  the  boulevards  if  that 
young  man  had  not  made  him.  But  he  is  here, 
nevertheless,  waiting  for  a  favorable  opportunity 
to  sail,  and  he  has  ten  thousand  rifles  and  three 
Maxim  guns  lying  in  his  yacht  out  there  in  the 
harbor.  That's  how  I  came  to  learn  about  it.  I 

65 


The  King's  Jackal 

was  getting  an  estimate  on  an  outfit  I  was  thinking 
of  taking  into  Yucatan  from  my  old  gunsmith  in 
the  Rue  Scribe,  and  he  dropped  a  hint  that  he  had 
shipped  ten  thousand  rifles  to  Tangier,  to  Colonel 
Erhaupt.  I  have  met  Erhaupt  in  Zanzibar,  and 
knew  he  was  the  King's  right-hand  man,  so  I  put 
two  and  two  together  and  decided  I  would  follow 
them  up,  and— 

"Yes,  and  now,"  interrupted  Miss  Carson, 
sharply — "and  now  that  you  have  followed  them 
up,  what  do  you  mean  to  do?" 

Gordon  looked  his  surprise  at  her  earnestness, 
but  answered  that  he  did  not  know  what  he  would 
do;  he  thought  he  would  either  ask  them  to  give 
him  a  commission  in  their  expedition,  and  let  him 
help  them  fight,  and  write  an  account  of  their  ad 
ventures  later,  or  he  would  telegraph  the  story  at 
once  to  his  paper.  It  was  with  him,  he  said,  en 
tirely  a  question  as  to  which  course  would  be  of 
the  greater  news  value.  If  he  told  what  he  now 
knew,  his  paper  would  be  the  first  of  all  others  to 
inform  the  world  of  the  expedition  and  the  pro 
posed  revolution;  while  if  he  volunteered  for  the 
expedition  and  waited  until  it  had  failed  or  suc 
ceeded,  he  would  be  able  to  tell  more  eventually, 
but  would  have  to  share  it  with  other  corres 
pondents. 

66 


The  King's  Jackal 

Miss  Carson  regarded  him  with  an  expression 
in  which  indignation  and  entreaty  were  curiously 
blended. 

"Archie,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "you  do  not 
know  what  you  are  doing  or  saying.  You  are 
threatening  to  spoil  the  one  thing  in  my  life  on 
which  I  have  set  my  heart.  The  return  of  this  man 
to  his  throne,  whether  he  is  worthy  or  not,  means 
the  restoration  of  the  Catholic  Church  on  that  isl 
and;  it  means  the  return  of  the  monks  and  the  re 
building  of  the  monasteries,  and  the  salvation  of 
sixty  thousand  souls.  I  know  all  that  they  mean 
to  do.  I  am  the  one  who  paid  for  those  rifles  that 
brought  you  here;  you  have  told  me  only  what  I 
have  known  for  months,  and  for  which  I  have 
been  earnestly  working  and  praying.  I  am  not 
blinded  by  these  men.  They  are  not  the  creatures 
you  describe ;  but  no  matter  what  they  may  be,  it 
is  only  through  them,  and  through  them  alone, 
that  I  can  do  what  I  have  set  out  to  do." 

Gordon  silenced  her  with  a  sweep  of  his  hand. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  demanded,  "that 
you  are  mixed  up  in  this — with  these — that  they 
have  taken  money  from  you,  and  told  you  they 
meant  to  use  it  to  re-establish  the  Church?  Mrs. 
Carson,"  he  exclaimed,  bitterly,  turning  upon  her, 
"why  have  you  allowed  this — what  have  you  been 

67 


The  King's  Jackal 

doing  while  this  was  going  on?  Do  you  suj> 
pose  those  scoundrels  care  for  the  Church — the 
Church,  indeed!  Wait  until  I  see  them — any  of 
them — Erhaupt  by  choice,  and  I'll  make  them  give 
up  every  franc  you've  lent  them,  or  I'll  horsewhip 
and  expose  them  for  the  gang  of  welshers  and 
thimble-riggers  they  are;  or  if  they  prefer  their 
own  methods,  I'll  call  them  out  in  rotation  and 
shoot  their  arms  and  legs  off."  He  stopped  and 
drew  a  long  breath,  either  of  content  that  he  had 
discovered  the  situation  in  time  to  take  some  part 
in  it,  or  at  the  prospect  of  a  fight. 

"The  idea  of  you  two  helpless  females  wander 
ing  into  this  den  of  wolves!"  he  exclaimed,  indig 
nantly.  "It's  about  time  you  had  a  man  to  look 
after  you !  You  go  back  to  your  hotel  now,  and 
let  me  have  a  chat  with  Louis  of  Messina.  He's 
kept  me  waiting  some  twenty  minutes  as  it  is,  and 
that's  a  little  longer  than  I  can  give  him.  I'm 
not  a  creditor."  He  rose  from  his  chair;  but  Miss 
Carson  put  out  her  hand  and  motioned  him  to  be 
seated. 

"Archie,"  she  said,  "I  like  the  way  you  take 
this,  even  though  you  are  all  wrong  about  it,  be 
cause  it's  just  like  you  to  fly  into  a  passion  and 
want  to  fight  someone  for  somebody.  If  your  con 
clusions  were  anywhere  near  the  truth,  you  would 

58 


The  King's  Jackal 

be  acting  very  well.  But  they  are  not.  The  King 
is  not  handling  my  money,  nor  the  Prince  Kalonay. 
It  is  in  the  keeping  of  Father  Paul,  the  Father 
Superior  of  the  Dominican  monks,  who  is  the  only 
one  of  these  people  I  know  or  who  knows  me.  He 
is  not  a  swindler,  too,  is  he,  or  a  retired  croupier? 
Listen  to  me  now,  and  do  not  fly  out  like  that  at 
me,  or  at  mother.  It  is  not  her  fault.  Last  sum 
mer  mother  and  I  went  to  Messina  as  tourists,  and 
one  day,  when  passing  through  a  seaport  town,  we 
saw  a  crowd  of  people  on  the  shore,  standing  or 
kneeling  by  the  hundreds  in  a  great  semicircle  close 
to  the  water's  edge.  There  was  a  priest  preaching 
to  them  from  an  open  boat.  It  was  like  a  scene 
from  the  New  Testament,  and  the  man,  this  Father 
Paul,  made  me  think  of  one  of  the  disciples.  I 
asked  them  why  he  did  not  preach  on  the  land,  and 
they  told  me  that  he  and  all  of  the  priests  had  been 
banished  from  the  island  six  years  before,  and  that 
they  could  only  return  by  stealth  and  dared  not 
land  except  by  night.  When  the  priest  had  fin 
ished  speaking,  I  had  myself  rowed  out  to  his  boat, 
and  I  talked  a  long  time  with  him,  and  he  told  me 
of  this  plan  to  re-establish  himself  and  his  order. 
I  offered  to  help  him  with  my  money,  and  he  prom 
ised  me  a  letter  to  Cardinal  Napoli.  It  reached 
me  on  my  return  to  Rome,  and  through  the  influ- 

69 


The  King's  Jackal 

cnce  of  the  Cardinal  I  was  given  an  audience  with 
the  Pope,  and  I  was  encouraged  to  aid  Father  Paul 
as  far  as  I  could.  I  had  meant  to  build  a  memorial 
church  for  father,  but  they  urged  me  to  give  the 
money  instead  to  this  cause.  All  my  dealings  until 
to-day  have  been  with  Father  Paul  alone.  I  have 
seen  a  little  of  the  Prince  Kalonay  because  they 
are  always  together;  but  he  has  always  treated  me 
in  a  way  to  which  no  one  could  take  exception,  and 
he  is  certainly  very  much  in  earnest.  When  Father 
Paul  left  Paris  mother  and  I  came  on  here  in  order 
to  be  near  him,  and  that  is  how  you  find  me  at 
Tangier.  And  now  that  you  understand  how 
much  this  means  to  me,  I  know  you  will  not  do 
anything  to  stand  in  our  way.  Those  men  inside 
are  afraid  that  you  came  here  for  just  the  reason 
that  apparently  has  brought  you,  and  when  they 
saw  you  a  little  while  ago  through  the  windows 
they  were  greatly  disturbed.  Let  me  tell  them 
that  you  mean  to  volunteer  for  the  campaign.  The 
King  cannot  refuse  the  services  of  a  man  who  has 
done  the  things  you  are  always  doing.  And  I 
promise  you  that  for  a  reward  you  shall  be  the 
only  one  to  tell  the  story  of  our  attempt.  I  prom 
ise  you,"  she  repeated  earnestly,  uthat  the  day  we 
enter  the  capital,  you  can  cable  whatever  you  please 
and  tell  our  story  to  the  whole  of  Europe." 

70 


The  King's  Jackal 

"The  story  be  hanged!"  replied  Gordon.  "You 
have  made  this  a  much  more  serious  business  than 
a  newspaper  story.  You  misunderstand  me  utterly, 
Patty.  I  am  here  now  because  I  am  not  going  to 
have  you  compromised  and  robbed." 

The  girl  stood  up  and  looked  down  at  the  young 
man  indignantly. 

"You  have  no  right  whatever  to  use  that  tone 
to  me,"  she  said.  "I  am  of  age  and  my  own  ad 
viser.  I  am  acting  for  the  good  of  a  great  number 
of  people,  and  according  to  what  my  conscience 
and  common  sense  tell  me  is  right.  I  shall  hate 
you  if  you  attempt  to  interfere.  You  can  do  one 
of  two  things,  Archie.  I  give  you  your  choice: 
you  can  either  go  with  them  as  a  volunteer,  and 
promise  to  keep  our  secret;  or  you  can  cable  what 
you  know  now,  what  you  know  only  by  accident, 
but  if  you  do,  you  will  lose  your  best  friend,  and 
you  will  defeat  a  good  and  a  noble  effort." 

Gordon  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  looked  up 
at  her  steadily  for  a  brief  moment,  and  then  rose 
with  a  smile,  and  bowed  to  the  two  women  in 
silence.  He  crossed  the  terrace  quickly  with  an 
amused  and  puzzled  countenance,  and  walked  into 
the  breakfast-room,  from  the  windows  of  which, 
as  he  rightly  guessed,  the  five  conspirators  had  for 
some  time  observed  him.  He  looked  from  one  to 

71 


The  King's  Jackal 

the  other  of  the  men  about  the  table,  until  his  eyes 
finally  met  those  of  the  King. 

"I  believe,  sir,  you  are  leading  an  expedition 
against  the  Republic  of  Messina?"  Gordon  said, 
"I  am  afraid  it  can't  start  unless  you  take  me  with 
you." 


Ill 

The  presence  in  Tangier  of  the  King  of 
Messina  and  his  suite,  and  the  arrival  there  of 
the  French  noblemen  who  had  volunteered  for  the 
expedition,  could  not  escape  the  observation  of  the 
resident  Consuls-General  and  of  the  foreign  col 
ony,  and  dinners,  riding  and  hunting  parties,  pig 
sticking,  and  excursions  on  horseback  into  the  out 
lying  country  were  planned  for  their  honor  and 
daily  entertainment.  Had  the  conspirators  held 
aloof  from  these,  the  residents  might  have  asked, 
since  it  was  not  to  enjoy  themselves,  what  was  the 
purpose  of  their  stay  in  Tangier;  and  so,  to  allay 
suspicion  as  to  their  real  object,  different  members 
of  the  expedition  had  been  assigned  from  time  to 
time  to  represent  the  visitors  at  these  festivities. 
On  the  morning  following  the  return  of  the  yacht 
from  Messina,  an  invitation  to  ride  to  a  farm 
house  some  miles  out  of  Tangier  and  to  breakfast 
there  had  been  sent  to  the  visitors,  and  the  King 
had  directed  the  Prince  Kalonay,  and  half  of  the 
delegation  from  Paris,  to  accept  it  in  his  name. 

73 


The  King's  Jackal 

They  were  well  content  to  go,  and  rode  forth 
.gayly  and  in  high  spirits,  for  the  word  had  been 
brought  them  early  in  the  morning  that  the  expedi 
tion  was  already  prepared  to  move,  and  that  same 
evening  at  midnight  the  yacht  would  set  sail  for 
Messina.  They  were  careless  as  to  what  fortune 
wraited  for  them  there.  The  promise  of  much  ex 
citement,  of  fighting  and  of  danger,  of  possible 
honor  and  success,  stirred  the  hearts  of  the  young 
men  gloriously,  and  as  they  galloped  across  the 
plains,  or  raced  each  other  from  point  to  point, 
or  halted  to  jump  their  ponies  across  the  many 
gaping  crevices  which  the  sun  had  split  in  the  sur 
face  of  the  plain,  they  filled  the  still,  warm  air  with 
their  shouts  and  laughter.  In  the  party  there  were 
many  ladies,  and  the  groups  changed  and  formed 
again  as  they  rode  forward,  spread  out  on  either 
side  of  the  caravan-trail  and  covering  the  plain 
like  a  skirmish  line  of  cavalry.  But  Kalonay  kept 
close  at  Miss  Carson's  stirrup,  whether  she  walked 
her  pony  or  sent  him  flying  across  the  hard,  sun 
baked  soil. 

"I  hope  you  won't  do  that  again,"  he  said,  ear 
nestly,  as  she  drew  up  panting,  with  her  sailor  hat 
and  hair  falling  to  her  shoulders.  They  had  been 
galloping  recklessly  over  the  open  crevices  in  the 
soil. 

74 


The  King's  Jackal 

"It's  quite  the  nastiest  country  I  ever  saw,"  he 
said.  "It  looks  as  though  an  earthquake  had 
shaken  it  open  and  had  forgotten  to  close  it  again. 
Believe  me,  it  is  most  unsafe  and  dangerous.  Your 
pony  might  stumble — "  He  stopped,  as  though 
the  possibilities  were  too  serious  for  words,  but  the 
girl  laughed. 

"It's  no  more  dangerous  than  riding  across  our 
prairie  at  dusk  when  you  can't  see  the  barbed  wire* 
You  are  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  find  fault 
because  a  thing  is  dangerous,"  she  added. 

They  had  reached  the  farm,  where  they  went 
to  breakfast,  and  the  young  Englishman  who  was 
their  host  was  receiving  his  guests  in  his  garden, 
and  the  servants  were  passing  among  them,  carry 
ing  cool  drinks  and  powdered  sweets  and  Turkish 
coffee.  Kalonay  gave  their  ponies  to  a  servant  and 
pointed  with  his  whip  to  an  arbor  that  stood  at  one 
end  of  the  garden. 

"May  we  sit  down  there  a  moment  until  they 
call  us?"  he  said.  "I  have  news  of  much  impor 
tance — and  I  may  not  have  another  chance,"  he 
begged,  looking  at  her  wistfully.  The  girl  stood 
motionless;  her  eyes  were  serious,  and  she  meas 
ured  the  distance  down  the  walk  to  the  arbor  as 
though  she  saw  it  beset  with  dangers  more  actual 
than  precipices  and  twisted  wire.  The  Prince 

75 


The  Kings  Jackal 

watched  her  as  though  his  fate  was  being  weighed 
in  his  presence. 

"Very  well,"  she  said  at  last,  and  moved  on 
before  him  down  the  garden-path. 

The  arbor  was  open  to  the  air  with  a  low,  broad 
roof  of  palm-leaves  that  overhung  it  on  all  sides 
and  left  it  in  deep  shadow.  Around  it  were  many 
strange  plants  and  flowers,  some  native  to  Morocco 
and  some  transplanted  from  their  English  home. 
From  where  they  sat  they  could  see  the  other 
guests  moving  in  and  out  among  the  groves  of 
orange  and  olive  trees  and  swaying  palms,  and 
standing,  outlined  against  the  blue  sky,  upon  the 
low,  flat  roof  of  the  farm-house. 

"I  have  dared  to  ask  you  to  be  so  good  as  to 
give  me  this  moment,"  the  Prince  said  humbly, 
"only  because  I  am  going  away,  and  it  may  be  my 
last  chance  to  speak  with  you.  You  do  not  mind? 
You  do  not  think  I  presume  ?" 

"No,  I  do  not  mind,"  said  the  girl,  smiling. 
"In  my  country  we  do  not  think  it  a  terrible  of 
fence  to  talk  to  a  girl  at  a  garden-party.  But  you 
said  there  was  something  of  importance  you 
wanted  to  say  to  me.  You  mean  the  expedition?" 

"Yes,"  said  Kalonay.     "We  start  this  evening." 

The  girl  raised  her  head  slightly  and  stared  past 
him  at  the  burning  white  walls  and  the  burning 

76 


The  King's  Jackal 

blue  sky  that  lay  outside  the  circle  of  shadow  In 
which  they  sat. 

"This  evening — "  she  repeated  to  herself. 

"We  reach  there  in  two  days,"  Kalonay  con 
tinued;  "and  then  we — then  we  go  on — until  we 
enter  the  capital." 

The  girl's  head  was  bent,  and  she  looked  at  her 
hands  as  they  lay  in  her  lap  and  frowned  at  them, 
they  seemed  so  white  and  pretty  and  useless. 

"Yes,  you  go  on,"  she  repeated,  "and  we  stay 
here.  You  are  a  man  and  able  to  go  on.  I  know 
what  that  means.  And  you  like  it,"  she  added, 
with  a  glance  of  mingled  admiration  and  fear. 
"You  are  glad  to  fight  and  to  risk  death  and  to 
lead  men  on  to  kill  other  men." 

Kalonay  drew  lines  in  the  sand  with  his  riding- 
whip,  and  did  not  raise  his  head. 

"I  suppose  it  is  because  you  are  fighting  for 
your  home,"  the  girl  continued,  "and  to  set  your 
country  free,  and  that  you  can  live  with  your  own 
people  again,  and  because  it  is  a  holy  war.  That 
must  be  it.  Now  that  it  is  really  come,  I  see  it 
all  differently.  I  see  things  I  had  not  thought 
about  before.  They  frighten  me,"  she  said. 

The  Prince  raised  his  head  and  faced  the  girl, 
clasping  the  end  of  his  whip  nervously  in  his  hand. 

"If  we  should  win  the  island  for  the  King,"  he 
77 


The  King's  Jackal 

said,  "I  believe  it  will  make  a  great  change  in  me. 
I  shall  be  able  to  go  freely  then  to  my  home,  as 
you  say,  to  live  there  always,  to  give  up  the  life 
I  have  led  on  the  Continent.  It  has  been  a  foolish 
life — a  dog's  life — and  I  have  no  one  to  blame  for 
it  but  myself.  I  made  it  worse  than  it  need  to 
have  been.  But  if  we  win,  I  have  promised  myself 
that  I  will  not  return  to  it;  and  if  we  fail  I  shall 
not  return  to  it,  for  the  reason  that  I  shall  have 
been  killed.  I  shall  have  much  power  if  we  win. 
When  I  say  much  power,  I  mean  much  power  in 
Messina,  in  that  little  corner  of  the  world,  and  I 
wish  to  use  it  worthily  and  well.  I  am  afraid  I 
should  not  have  thought  of  it,"  he  went  on, 
naively,  as  though  he  were  trying  to  be  quite  fair, 
"had  not  Father  Paul  pointed  out  to  me  what  I 
should  do,  how  I  could  raise  the  people  and  stop 
the  abuses  which  made  them  drive  us  from  the 
island.  The  people  must  be  taxed  less  heavily, 
and  the  money  must  be  spent  for  them  and  not  for 
us,  on  roads  and  harbors  and  schools,  not  at  the 
Palace  on  banquets  and  fetes.  These  are  Father 
Paul's  ideas,  not  mine, — but  now  I  make  them 
mine."  He  rose  and  paced  the  length  of  the  little 
arbor,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him  and  his  eyes 
bent  on  the  ground.  "Yes,  that  is  what  I  mean  to 
do,"  he  said.  "That  is  the  way  I  mean  to  live. 

78 


«'I  Suppose  it  is  because  You  aw  Fighting  for  your  Home.1 


The  King's  Jackal 

And  if  we  fail,  I  mean  to  be  among  those  who  are 
to  die  on  the  fortifications  of  the  capital,  so  that 
with  me  the  Kalonay  family  will  end,  and  end 
fighting  for  the  King,  as  many  of  my  people  have 
done  before  me.  There  is  no  other  way.  For  me 
there  shall  be  no  more  idleness  nor  exile.  I  must 
either  live  on  to  help  my  people,  or  I  must  die  with 
them."  He  stopped  in  his  walk  and  regarded  the 
girl  closely.  "You  may  be  thinking,  it  is  easy  for 
him  to  promise  this,  it  is  easy  to  speak  of  what  one 
will  do.  I  know  that.  I  know  that  I  can  point 
back  at  nothing  I  have  done  that  gives  me  any 
right  to  ask  you  to  believe  me  now.  But  I  do  ask 
it,  for  if  you  believe  me — believe  what  I  say — it 
makes  it  easier  for  me  to  tell  you  why  after  this 
I  must  live  worthily.  But  you  know  why?  You 
must  know;  it  is  not  possible  that  you  do  not 
know." 

He  sat  down  beside  her  on  the  bench,  leaning 
forward  and  crushing  his  hands  together  on  his 
knee.  "It  is  because  I  love  you.  Because  I  love 
you  so  that  everything  which  is  not  worthy  is  hate 
ful  to  me,  myself  most  of  all.  It  is  the  only  thing 
that  counts.  I  used  to  think  I  knew  what  love 
meant;  I  used  to  think  love  was  a  selfish  thing  that 
needed  love  in  return,  that  it  must  be  fed  on  love 
to  live,  that  it  needed  vows  and  tender  speeches 

79 


The  King's  Jackal 

and  caresses,  or  it  would  die.  I  know  now  that 
when  one  truly  cares,  he  does  not  ask  whether  the 
other  cares  or  not.  It  is  what  one  gives  that 
counts,  not  what  one  receives.  You  have  given  me 
nothing — nothing — not  a  word  nor  a  look;  yet 
since  I  have  known  you  I  have  been  more  madly 
happy  in  just  knowing  that  you  live  than  I  would 
have  been  had  any  other  woman  in  all  the  world 
thrown  herself  into  my  arms  and  said  she  loved  me 
above  all  other  men.  I  am  not  fit  to  tell  you  this. 
But  to-night  I  go  to  try  myself,  either  never  to  see 
you  again,  or  to  come  back  perhaps  more  worthy 
to  love  you.  Think  of  this  when  I  am  gone.  Do 
not  speak  to  me  now.  I  may  have  made  you  hate 
me  for  speaking  so,  or  I  may  have  made  you  pity 
me;  so  let  me  go  not  knowing,  just  loving  you,  wor 
shipping  you,  and  holding  you  apart  and  above  all 
other  people.  I  go  to  fight  for  you,  do  you  under 
stand?  Not  for  our  Church,  not  for  my  people, 
but  for  you,  to  live  or  die  for  you.  And  I  ask 
nothing  from  you  but  that  you  will  let  me  love 
you  always." 

The  Prince  bent,  and  catching  up  Miss  Carson's 
riding-gloves  that  lay  beside  her  on  the  bench, 
kissed  them  again  and  again,  and  then,  rising 
quickly,  walked  out  of  the  arbor  into  the  white 
sunshine,  and,  without  turning,  mounted  his  pony 

80 


The  King's  Jackal 

and  galloped  across  the  burning  desert  in  the  direc 
tion  of  Tangier. 

Archie  Gordon  had  not  been  invited  to  join  the 
excursion  into  the  country,  nor  would  he  have  ac 
cepted  it,  for  he  wished  to  be  by  himself  that  he 
might  review  the  situation  and  consider  what  lay 
before  him.  He  sat  with  his  long  legs  dangling 
over  the  broad  rampart  which  overlooks  the  har 
bor  of  Tangier.  He  was  whistling  meditatively  to 
himself  and  beating  an  accompaniment  to  the  tune 
with  his  heels.  At  intervals  he  ceased  whistling 
while  he  placed  a  cigar  between  his  teeth  and 
pulled  upon  it  thoughtfully,  resuming  his  tune 
again  at  the  point  where  it  had  been  interrupted. 
Below  him  the  waves  ran  up  lazily  on  the  level 
beach  and  sank  again,  dragging  the  long  sea-weed 
with  them,  as  they  swept  against  the  sharp  rocks, 
and  exposed  them  for  an  instant,  naked  and  glis 
tening  in  the  sun.  On  either  side  of  him  the  town 
stretched  to  meet  the  low,  white,  sand-hills  in  a 
crescent  of  low,  white  houses  pierced  by  green 
minarets  and  royal  palms.  A  warm  sun  had  sent 
the  world  to  sleep  at  mid-day,  and  an  enforced 
peace  hung  over  the  glaring  white  town  and  the 
sparkling  blue  sea.  Gordon  blinked  at  the  glare, 
but  his  eyes  showed  no  signs  of  drowsiness.  They 

81 


The  King's  Jackal 

were,  on  the  contrary,  awake  to  all  that  passed  on 
the  high  road  behind  him,  and  on  the  sandy  beach 
at  his  feet,  while  at  the  same  time  his  mind  was 
busily  occupied  in  reviewing  what  had  occurred  the 
day  before,  and  in  adjusting  new  conditions.  At 
the  hotel  he  had  found  that  the  situation  was  be 
coming  too  complicated,  and  that  it  was  impossible 
to  feel  sure  of  the  truth  of  anything,  or  of  the 
sincerity  of  anyone.  Since  the  luncheon  hour  the 
day  before  he  had  become  a  fellow-conspirator 
with  men  who  were  as  objectionable  to  him  in 
every  way  as  he  knew  he  was  obnoxious  to  them. 
But  they  had  been  forced  to  accept  him  because, 
so  they  supposed,  he  had  them  at  the  mercy  of  his 
own  pleasure.  He  knew  their  secret,  and  in  the 
legitimate  pursuit  of  his  profession  he  could,  if  he 
chose,  inform  the  island  of  Messina,  with  the  rest 
of  the  world,  of  their  intention  toward  it,  and 
bring  their  expedition  to  an  end,  though  he  had 
chosen,  as  a  reward  for  his  silence,  to  become  one 
of  themselves.  Only  the  Countess  Zara  had 
guessed  the  truth,  that  it  was  Gordon  himself  who 
was  at  their  mercy,  and  that  so  long  as  the  Amer 
ican  girl  persisted  in  casting  her  fortunes  with 
them  her  old  young  friend  was  only  too  eager  to 
make  any  arrangement  with  them  that  would  keep 
him  at  her  side. 

82 


The  King's  Jackal 

It  was  a  perplexing  position,  and  Gordon  turned 
it  over  and  over  in  his  mind.  Had  it  not  been  that 
Miss  Carson  had  a  part  in  it  he  would  have  en 
joyed  the  adventure,  as  an  adventure,  keenly.  He 
had  no  objections  to  fighting  on  the  side  of  rascals, 
or  against  rascals.  He  objected  to  them  only  in 
the  calmer  moments  of  private  life;  and  as  he  was 
of  course  ignorant  that  the  expedition  was  only  a 
make-believe,  he  felt  a  certain  respect  for  his  fel 
low-conspirators  as  men  who  were  willing  to  stake 
their  lives  for  a  chance  of  better  fortune.  But 
that  their  bravery  was  of  the  kind  which  would 
make  them  hesitate  to  rob  and  deceive  a  helpless 
girl  he  very  much  doubted ;  for  he  knew  that  even 
the  bravest  of  warriors  on  their  way  to  battle  will 
requisition  a  herd  of  cattle  or  stop  to  loot  a  temple. 
The  day  before,  Gordon  had  witnessed  the  brief 
ceremony  which  attended  the  presentation  of  the 
young  noblemen  from  Paris  who  had  volunteered 
for  the  expedition  in  all  good  faith,  and  he  re 
viewed  it  and  analyzed  it  as  he  sat  smoking  on  the 
ramparts. 

It  had  been  an  impressive  ceremony,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  so  few  had  taken  part  in  it,  but  the 
earnestness  of  the  visitors  and  the  enthusiasm  of 
Kalonay  and  the  priest  had  made  up  for  the  lack 
of  numbers.  The  scene  had  appealed  to  him  as 

83 


The  King's  Jackal 

one  of  the  most  dramatic  he  had  witnessed  in  the 
pursuit  of  a  calling  in  which  looking  on  at  real 
dramas  was  the  most  frequent  duty,  and  he  had  en 
joyed  the  strange  mixture  of  ancient  terms  of  ad 
dress  and  titles  with  the  modern  manners  of  the 
men  themselves.  It  had  interested  him  to  watch 
Baron  Barrat  bring  out  the  ancient  crown  and 
jewelled  sceptre  which  had  been  the  regalia  of  all 
the  Kings  of  Messina  since  the  Crusades  and 
spread  them  out  upon  a  wicker  tea-table,  from 
which  Niccolas  had  just  removed  some  empty 
coffee-cups,  half  filled  with  the  ends  of  cigarettes, 
some  yellow-backed  novels,  and  a  copy  of  the 
Paris  Figaro.  It  was  also  interesting  to  him  to 
note  how  the  sight  of  the  little  heir-apparent  af 
fected  both  the  peasants  from  the  mountains  and 
the  young  nobles  from  the  Club  Royale.  The 
former  fell  upon  their  knees  with  the  tears  rolling 
down  the  furrows  in  their  tanned  cheeks,  while  the 
little  wise-eyed  boy  stood  clinging  to  his  nurse's 
skirts  with  one  hand  and  to  his  father's  finger  with 
the  other,  and  nodded  his  head  at  them  gravely 
like  a  toy  mandarin. 

Then  the  King  had  addresed  them  in  a  digni 
fied,  earnest,  and  almost  eloquent  speech,  and  had 
promised  much  and  prophesied  the  best  of  for 
tunes,  and  then,  at  the  last,  had  turned  suddenly 

84 


The  King's  Jackal 

toward  Miss  Carson,  where  she  stood  in  the  back 
ground  between  her  mother  and  Father  Paul. 

"Every  cause  has  its  Joan  of  Arc,  or  its  Maria 
Theresa,"  he  cried,  looking  steadfastly  at  Miss 
Carson.  "No  cause  has  succeeded  without  some 
good  woman  to  aid  it.  To  help  us,  my  friends,  we 
have  a  daughter  of  the  people,  as  was  Joan  of  Arc, 
and  a  queen,  as  was  Maria  Theresa,  for  she  comes 
from  that  country  where  every  woman  is  a  queen 
in  her  own  right,  and  where  the  love  of  liberty  is 
inherent."  The  King  took  a  quick  step  backward, 
and  taking  Miss  Carson's  hand  drew  her  forward 
beside  him  and  placed  her  facing  his  audience, 
while  the  girl  made  vain  efforts  to  withdraw  her 
hand.  "This  is  she,"  he  said  earnestly,  "the  true 
daughter  of  the  Church  who  has  made  it  possible 
for  us  to  return  to  our  own  again.  It  is  due  to  her 
that  the  King  of  Messina  shall  sit  once  more  on 
his  throne;  it  is  through  her  generosity  alone  that 
the  churches  will  rise  from  their  ruins  and  that  you 
will  once  again  hear  the  Angelus  ring  across  the 
fields  at  sunset.  Remember  her,  my  friends  and 
cousins,  pray  for  her  as  a  saint  upon  earth,  and 
fight  gloriously  to  help  her  to  success!" 

Gordon  had  restrained  himself  with  difficulty 
while  this  scene  was  being  enacted;  he  could  not 
bear  the  thought  of  the  King  touching  the  girl's 

85 


The  King's  Jackal 

hand.  He  struggled  to  prevent  himself  from  cry 
ing  out  at  the  false  position  into  which  he  had 
dragged  her;  and  yet  there  was  something  so  ad 
mirably  sincere  in  the  King's  words,  something  so 
courteous  and  manly,  that  it  robbed  his  words  of 
all  the  theatrical  effect  they  held,  and  his  tribute 
to  the  girl  filled  even  Gordon  with  an  emotion 
which  on  the  part  of  the  young  nobles  found  ex 
pression  in  cheer  upon  cheer. 

Gordon  recalled  these  cheers  and  the  looks  of 
wondering  admiration  which  had  been  turned 
upon  Miss  Carson,  and  he  grew  so  hot  at  the  recol 
lection  that  he  struck  the  wall  beside  him  savagely 
with  his  clinched  fist,  and  damned  the  obstinacy 
of  his  young  and  beautiful  friend  with  a  sincerity 
and  vigor  that  was  the  highest  expression  of  his 
interest  in  her  behalf. 

He  threw  his  cigar  into  the  rampart  at  his  feet 
and  dropped  back  into  the  high  road.  It  was  de 
serted  at  the  time,  except  for  the  presence  of  a  tall, 
slightly  built  stranger,  who  advanced  toward  him 
from  the  city  gates.  The  man  was  dressed  in  gar 
ments  of  F,uropean  fashion  and  carried  himself 
like  a  soldier,  and  Gordon  put  him  down  at  a 
glance  as  one  of  the  volunteers  from  Paris.  The 
stranprer  w?s  walking  leisurely,  stopping  to  gaze  at 
the  feluccas  in  the  bay,  and  then  turning  to  look 
'  86 


The  King's  Jackal 

up  at  the  fortress  on  the  hill.  He  seemed  to  have 
no  purpose  in  his  walk  except  the  interest  of  a 
tourist,  and  as  he  drew  up  even  with  Gordon  he 
raised  his  helmet  politely  and,  greeting  him  in  Eng 
lish,  asked  if  he  were  on  the  right  road  to  the 
Bashaw's  Palace.  Gordon  pointed  to  where  the 
white  walls  of  the  palace  rose  above  the  other 
white  walls  about  it. 

"That  is  it,"  he  said.  UA11  the  roads  lead  to  it. 
You  keep  going  up  hill." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  stranger.  "I  see  I  have 
taken  a  long  way."  He  put  his  white  umbrella 
in  the  sand,  and,  removing  his  helmet,  mopped  his 
forehead  with  his  handkerchief.  "It  is  a  curious 
old  town,  Tangier,"  he  said,  affably,  "but  too 
many  hills,  is  it  not  so?  Algiers  I  like  better. 
There  is  more  life." 

"Yes,  Algiers  is  almost  as  good  as  the  boule 
vards,"  Gordon  assented,  "if  you  like  the  boule 
vards.  I  prefer  this  place  because  it  is  unspoiled. 
But,  as  you  say,  there  is  not  much  to  do  here." 

The  stranger's  eyes  fell  upon  the  Hotel  Grande 
Bretagne,  which  stood  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away 
from  them  on  the  beach. 

"That  is  the  Hotel  Bretagne,  is  it  not?"  he 
asked.  Gordon  answered  him  with  a  nod. 

"The  King  Louis  of  Messina,  so  the  chasseur 

87 


The  King's  Jackal 

at  the  hotel  tells  me,  is  stopping  there  en  suite  ?" 
the  stranger  added,  with  an  interrogative  air  of 
one  who  volunteers  an  interesting  fact,  and  who 
asks  if  it  is  true  at  the  same  moment. 

"I  can't  say,  I'm  sure,"  Gordon  replied.  "I 
only  arrived  here  yesterday." 

The  stranger  bowed  his  head  in  recognition  of 
this  piece  of  personal  information,  and,  putting  on 
his  helmet,  picked  up  his  umbrella  as  though  to 
continue  his  stroll.  As  he  did  so  his  eyes  wandered 
over  the  harbor  and  were  arrested  with  apparent 
interest  by  the  yacht,  which  lay  a  conspicuous  ob 
ject  on  the  blue  water.  He  pointed  at  it  with  his 
umbrella. 

"One  of  your  English  men-of-war  is  in  the  har 
bor,  I  see.  She  is  very  pretty,  but  not  large;  not 
so  large  as  many,"  he  said. 

Gordon  turned  his  head  obligingly  and  gazed 
at  the  yacht  with  polite  interest.  "Is  that  a  man- 
of-war?  I  thought  it  was  a  yacht,"  he  said.  "I'm 
not  familiar  with  the  English  war-vessels.  I  am 
an  American." 

"Ah,  indeed!"  commented  the  affable  stranger. 
"I  am  French  myself,  but  I  think  she  is  a  man- 
of-war.  I  saw  her  guns  when  I  passed  on  the 
steamer  from  Gibraltar." 

Gordon  knew  that  the  steamer  did  not  pass 
88 


The  King's  Jackal 

within  half  a  mile  of  where  the  yacht  lay  at  anchor* 
but  he  considered  it  might  be  possible  to  see  her 
decks  with  the  aid  of  a  glass. 

"You  may  be  right,"  he  answered,  indifferently. 
As  he  turned  his  eyes  from  the  boat  he  saw  a 
woman,  dressed  in  white,  and  carrying  a  parasol, 
leave  the  gardens  of  the  Hotel  Bretagne,  and  come 
toward  them  along  the  beach.  The  Frenchman, 
following  the  direction  of  his  eyes,  saw  her  also, 
and  regarded  her  instantly  with  such  evident  con 
cern  that  Gordon,  who  had  recognized  her  even 
at  that  distance  as  the  Countess  Zara,  felt  assured 
that  his  inquisitor  held,  as  he  had  already  sus 
pected,  more  than  a  tourist's  interest  in  Tan 
gier. 

"Well,  I  will  wish  you  a  good-morning,"  said 
the  Frenchman,  hurriedly. 

"Good-morning,"  Gordon  replied,  and  taking  a 
cigar  from  his  case,  he  seated  himself  again  upon 
the  rampart.  As  he  walked  away  the  stranger 
glanced  back  over  his  shoulder,  but  Gordon  was 
apparently  absorbed  in  watching  the  waves  below 
him,  and  had  lost  all  interest  in  his  chance  ac 
quaintance.  But  he  watched  both  the  woman  and 
the  Frenchman  as  they  advanced  slowly  from  op 
posite  directions  and  drew  nearer  together,  and  he 
was  not  altogether  surprised,  when  the  man  was 

89 


The  King's  Jackal 

within  twenty  feet  of  her,  to  see  her  start  and  stand 
still,  and  then,  with  the  indecision  of  a  hunted  ani 
mal,  move  uncertainly,  and  then  turn  and  run  in 
the  direction  of  the  hotel.  Something  the  man  ap 
parently  called  after  her  caused  her  to  stop,  and 
Gordon  observed  them  now  with  undisguised  in 
terest  as  they  stood  conversing  together,  oblivious 
of  the  conspicuous  mark  they  made  on  the  broad 
white  beach  under  the  brilliant  sun. 

"I  wonder  what  he's  up  to  now?"  Gordon 
mused.  "He  was  trying  to  pump  me,  that's  evi 
dent,  and  he  certainly  recognized  the  lady,  and  she 
apparently  did  not  want  to  recognize  him.  I  won 
der  if  he  is  a  rejected  lover,  or  another  conspirator. 
This  is  a  most  amusing  place,  nothing  but  plots 
and  counterplots  and — Hello!"  he  exclaimed 
aloud.  The  man  had  moved  quickly  past  Madame 
Zara,  and  had  started  toward  the  hotel,  and  Zara 
had  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  as  though  to  en 
treat  him  to  remain.  But  he  did  not  stop,  and  she 
had  taken  a  few  uncertain  steps  after  him,  and 
had  then,  much  to  the  American's  dismay,  fallen 
limply  on  her  back  on  the  soft  sand.  She  was  not 
a  hundred  yards  distant  from  where  he  sat,  and  in 
an  instant  he  had  slipped  from  the  wall,  and 
dropped  on  his  hands  and  knees  on  the  beach  be 
low.  When  Gordon  reached  her  the  Frenchman 

90 


The  King's  Jackal 

had  returned,  and  was  supporting  her  head  on  his 
knee  and  covering  her  head  with  her  parasol. 

"The  lady  has  fainted!"  he  exclaimed,  eagerly. 
His  manner  was  no  longer  one  of  idle  indolence. 
He  was  wide  awake  now  and  visibly  excited. 

"The  sun  has  been  too  much  for  her,"  he  said. 
"It  is  most  dangerous  walking  about  at  this  time 
of  day." 

Gordon  ran  down  the  beach  and  scooped  up 
some  water  in  his  helmet,  and  dipping  his  hand 
kerchief  in  it  bathed  her  temples  and  cheek.  He 
had  time  to  note  that  she  was  a  very  beautiful  girl, 
and  the  pallor  of  her  face  gave  it  a  touch  of  gentle 
ness  that  he  had  not  seen  there  before. 

"I  will  go  to  the  hotel  and  bring  assistance," 
said  the  stranger,  uneasily,  as  the  woman  showed 
signs  of  regaining  consciousness. 

"No,"  said  Gordon,  "you'll  stay  where  you  are 
and  shade  her  with  her  umbrella.  She'll  be  all 
right  in  a  minute." 

The  girl  opened  her  eyes,  and  looking  up  saw 
Gordon  bending  over  her.  She  regarded  him  for 
a  moment  and  made  an  effort  to  rise,  and  in  her 
endeavor  to  do  so  her  eyes  met  those  of  the  French 
man,  and  with  a  sharp  moan  she  shut  them  again 
and  threw  herself  from  Gordon's  knee  to  the 
sand. 

91 


The  King's  Jackal 

"Give  me  that  umbrella,'*  said  Gordon,  "and 
go  stand  over  there  out  of  the  way." 

The  man  rose  from  his  knee  without  showing 
any  resentment  and  walked  some  little  distance 
away,  where  he  stood  with  his  arms  folded,  look 
ing  out  to  sea.  He  seemed  much  too  occupied  with 
something  of  personal  interest  to  concern  himself 
with  a  woman's  fainting-spell.  The  girl  lifted  her 
self  slowly  to  her  elbow,  and  then,  before  Gordon 
could  assist  her,  rose  with  a  quick,  graceful  move 
ment  and  stood  erect  upon  her  feet.  She  placed  a 
detaining  hand  for  an  instant  on  the  American's 
arm. 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  she  said.  "I  am 
afraid  I  have  been  imprudent  in  going  out  into 
the  sun."  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  French 
man,  who  stood  moodily  staring  at  the  sea  and 
tearing  one  of  his  finger-nails  with  his  teeth.  He 
seemed  utterly  oblivious  of  their  presence.  The 
girl  held  out  her  hand  for  the  parasol  she  had 
dropped  and  took  it  from  Gordon  with  a  bow. 

"May  I  walk  back  with  you  to  your  hotel?"  he 
asked.  "Unless  this  gentleman " 

"Thank  you,"  the  girl  said,  in  tones  which  the 
Frenchman  could  have  easily  overheard  had  he 
been  listening.  "I  am  quite  able  to  go  alone  now; 
it  is  only  a  step." 

92 


The  King's  Jackal 

She  was  still  regarding  the  Frenchman  closely; 
6ut  as  he  was  obviously  unconscious  of  them  she 
moved  so  that  Gordon  hid  her  from  him,  and  in 
an  entirely  different  voice  she  said,  speaking  rap- 
idly,— 

"You  are  Mr.  Gordon,  the  American  who 
joined  us  last  night.  That  man  is  a  spy  from  Mes 
sina.  He  is  Renauld,  the  Commander-in-Chief  of 
their  army.  He  must  be  gotten  away  from  here 
at  once.  It  is  a  matter  for  a  man  to  attend  to. 
Will  you  do  it?" 

"How  do  you  know  this?"  Gordon  asked. 
"How  do  you  know  he  is  General  Renauld?  I 
want  to  be  certain." 

The  girl  tossed  her  head  impatiently. 

"He  was  pointed  out  to  me  at  Messina.  I  saw 
him  there  in  command  at  a  review.  He  has  just 
spoken  to  me — that  was  what  frightened  me  into 
that  fainting-spell.  I  didn't  think  I  was  so  weak," 
she  said,  shaking  her  head.  "He  offered  me  a 
bribe  to  inform  him  of  our  plans.  I  tell  you  he 
is  a  spy." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Gordon,  reassuringly; 
"you  go  back  to  the  hotel  now  and  send  those 
guards  here  on  a  run.  I'll  make  a  charge  against 
him  and  have  him  locked  up  until  after  we  sail 
to-night.  Hurry,  please;  I'll  stay  here." 

93 


The  King's  Jackal 

Gordon  felt  a  pleasurable  glow  of  excitement. 
It  was  his  nature  to  throw  himself  into  everything 
he  did  and  to  at  once  become  a  partisan.  It  was 
a  quality  which  made  his  writings  attractive  to  the 
reader,  and  an  object  of  concern  to  his  editor.  At 
the  very  word  "spy,"  and  at  this  first  hint  of  oppo 
sition  to  the  cause  in  which  he  had  but  just  enlisted, 
he  thrilled  as  though  it  had  always  been  his  own, 
and  he  regarded  the  Frenchman  with  a  personal 
dislike  as  sudden  as  it  was  unfounded. 

The  Frenchman  had  turned  and  was  walking  in 
the  direction  of  the  city  gate.  His  eyes  were  bent 
on  the  sandy  beach  which  stretched  before  him, 
and  he  made  his  way  utterly  unmindful  of  the 
waves  that  stole  up  to  his  feet  and  left  little  pools 
of  water  in  his  path.  Gordon  beckoned  impa 
tiently  to  the  two  soldiers  who  came  running 
toward  him  at  the  hotel,  and  moved  forward  to 
meet  them  the  sooner.  He  took  one  of  them  by 
the  wrist  and  pointed  with  his  other  hand  at  the 
retreating  figure  of  the  Frenchman. 

"That  man,"  he  said,  uis  one  of  the  King's  ene 
mies.  The  King  is  in  danger  while  that  man  is 
here.  Your  duty  is  to  protect  the  King,  so  he 
gives  this  foreigner  into  your  charge." 

The  soldier  nodded  his  head  in  assent. 

"The  King  himself  sent  us,"  he  replied. 
94 


The  King's  Jackal 

"You  will  place  him  in  the  Civil  Prison,"  Gor 
don  Continued,  "until  the  King  is  safe  on  his  yacht, 
and  you  will  not  allow  him  to  send  for  the  French 
Consul-General.  If  he  sees  the  Consul-General  he 
will  tell  him  a  great  many  lies  about  you,  and  a 
great  war-ship  will  come  and  your  Bashaw  will  be 
forced  to  pay  the  foreigners  much  money.  I  will 
go  with  you  and  tell  this  man  in  his  own  tongue 
what  you  are  going  to  do  with  him." 

They  walked  hurriedly  after  the  Frenchman, 
and  when  they  had  overtaken  him  Gordon  halted 
and  bowed. 

"One  moment,  please,"  he  said.  "These  sol 
diers  have  an  order  for  your  arrest.  I  speak  the 
language,  and  if  you  have  anything  to  say  to  them 
I  will  interpret  for  you." 

The  Frenchman  stared  from  Gordon  to  the 
guards  and  then  laughed  incredulously  but  with  no 
great  confidence.  He  had  much  to  say,  but  he  de 
manded  to  kno  first  why  he  should  be  arrested. 

"The  lady  you  insulted,"  Gordon  answered, 
gravely,  "happened,  unfortunately  for  you,  to  be 
one  of  the  King's  guests.  She  has  complained  to 
him,  and  he  has  sent  these  soldiers  to  put  you 
where  you  cannot  trouble  her  again.  You  see,  sir, 
you  cannot  annoy  women  with  impunity  even  in 
this  barbarous  country." 

95 


The  King's  Jackal 

"Insult  her!  I  did  not  insult  her,"  the  man 
retorted.  "That  is  not  the  reason  I  am  ar 
rested." 

"You  annoyed  her  so  much  that  she  fainted. 
I  saw  you,"  said  Gordon,  backing  away  with  the 
evident  purpose  of  abandoning  the  foreigner  to  his 
guards. 

"She  has  lied,"  the  man  cried,  "either  to  the 
King  or  to  me.  I  do  not  know  which,  but  I  am 
here  to  find  out.  That  is  why  I  came  to  Tangier, 
and  I  intend  to  learn  the  truth." 

"You've  begun  rather  badly,"  Gordon  answered, 
as  he  still  retreated.  "In  the  Civil  Prison  your 
field  of  investigation  will  be  limited." 

The  Frenchman  took  a  hasty  step  toward  him, 
shrugging  off  the  hand  one  of  the  soldiers  had 
placed  on  his  shoulder. 

"Are  you  the  Prince  Kalonay,  sir?"  he  de 
manded.  "But  surely  not,"  he  added. 

"No,  I  am  not  the  Prince,"  Gordon  answered. 
"I  bid  you  good-morning,  sir." 

"Then  you  are  on  the  other  side,"  the  man 
called  after  him  eagerly,  with  a  tone  of  great  re 
lief.  "I  have  been  right  from  the  very  first.  I 
see  it  plainly.  It  is  a  double  plot,  and  you  are  one 
of  that  woman's  dupes.  Listen  to  me — I  beg  of 
you,  listen  to  me — I  have  a  story  to  tell." 

96 


The  King's  Jackal 

Gordon  paused  and  looked  back  at  the  man  over 
his  shoulder,  doubtfully. 

"It's  like  the  Arabian  Nights,"  he  said,  with  a 
puzzled  smile.  "There  was  once  a  rich  merchant 
of  Bagdad  and  the  Sultan  was  going  to  execute 
him,  but  they  put  off  the  execution  until  he  could 
tell  them  the  story  of  the  Beautiful  Countess  and 
the  French  Envoy.  I  am  sorry,"  he  added,  shak 
ing  his  head,  "but  I  cannot  listen  now.  I  must 
not  be  seen  talking  to  you  at  all,  and  everyone 
can  see  us  here." 

They  were  as  conspicuous  figures  on  the  flat  sur 
face  of  the  beach  as  two  palms  in  a  desert,  and 
Gordon  was  most  anxious  to  escape,  for  he  was 
conscious  that  he  could  be  observed  from  every 
point  in  the  town.  A  hundred  yards  away,  on  the 
terrace  of  the  hotel,  he  saw  the  King,  Madame 
Zara,  Barrat,  and  Erhaupt  standing  together 
watching  them. 

"If  the  American  leaves  him  now,  we  are  safe," 
the  King  was  saying.  He  spoke  in  a  whisper,  as 
though  he  feared  that  even  at  that  distance  Gordon 
and  the  Frenchman  could  overhear  his  words. 
"But  if  he  remains  with  him  he  will  find  out  the 
truth,  and  that  means  ruin.  He  will  ruin  us." 

"Look,  he  is  coming  this  way,"  Zara  answered. 
"He  is  leaving  him.  The  danger  is  past." 

97 


The  King's  Jackal 

.The  Frenchman  raised  his  eyes  and  saw  the 
four  figures  grouped  closely  together  on  the  ter 
race. 

"See,  what  did  I  tell  you?"  he  cried.  "She  is 
with  the  King  now.  It  is  a  plot  within  a  plot,  and 
I  believe  you  know  it,"  he  added,  furiously.  "You 
are  one  of  these  brave  blackmailers  yourself — that 
is  why  you  will  not  let  me  speak." 

"Blackmailers!"  said  Gordon.  "Confound 
your  impudence,  what  the  devil  do  you  mean  by 
that?" 

But  the  Frenchman  was  staring  angrily  at  the 
distant  group  on  the  terrace,  and  Gordon  turned 
his  eyes  in  the  same  direction.  Something  he  saw 
in  the  strained  and  eager  attitude  of  the  four 
conspirators  moved  him  to  a  sudden  determina 
tion. 

"That  will  do,  you  must  go,"  he  commanded, 
pointing  with  his  arm  toward  the  city  gate;  and 
before  the  Frenchman  could  reply,  he  gave  an 
order  to  the  guards,  and  they  seized  the  foreigner 
roughly  by  either  arm  and  hurried  him  away. 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  the  King,  piously. 
"They  have  separated,  and  the  boy  thinks  he  is 
rendering  us  great  service.  Well,  and  so  he  is,  the 
young  fool." 

The  group  on  the  piazza  remained  motionless, 


The  King's  Jackal 

watching  Gordon  as  he  leisurely  lit  a  cigar  and 
stood  looking  out  at  the  harbor  until  the  French 
man  had  disappeared  inside  the  city  wall.  Then 
he  turned  and  walked  slowly  after  him. 

"I  do  not  like  that.  I  do  not  like  his  following 
him,"  said  Barrat,  suspiciously. 

"That  is  nothing,"  answered  the  King.  "He 
is  going  to  play  the  spy  and  see  that  the  man  is 
safely  in  jail.  Then  he  will  return  and  report  to 
us.  We  must  congratulate  him  warmly.  He  fol 
lows  at  a  discreet  distance,  you  observe,  and  keeps 
himself  well  out  of  sight.  The  boy  knows  better 
than  to  compromise  himself  by  being  seen  in  con 
versation  with  the  man.  Of  course,  if  Renauld  is 
set  free  we  must  say  we  had  no  part  in  his  arrest, 
that  the  American  made  the  arrest  on  his  own  au 
thority.  What  a  convenient  tool  the  young  man 
is.  Why,  his  coming  really  frightened  us  at  first, 
and  now — now  we  make  a  cat's-paw  of  him."  The 
King  laughed  merrily.  "We  undervalue  ourselves 
sometimes,  do  we  not?" 

"He  is  a  nice  boy,"  said  Zara.  "I  feel  rather 
sorry  for  him.  He  looked  »o  anxious  and  dis 
tressed  when  I  was  so  silly  as  to  faint  on  the  beach 
just  now.  He  handled  me  as  tenderly  as  a  woman 
would  have  done — not  that  women  have  generally 
handled  me  tenderly,"  she  added. 

99 


The  King's  Jackal 

"I  was  thinking  the  simile  was  rather  mis 
placed,"  said  the  King. 

Gordon  passed  the  city  wall  and  heard  the  gates 
swing  to  behind  him.  The  Frenchman  and  his  two 
captors  were  just  ahead,  toiling  heavily  up  the 
steep  and  narrow  street.  Gordon  threw  his  cigar 
from  him  and  ran  leaping  over  the  huge  cobbles 
to  the  Frenchman's  side  and  touched  him  on  the 
shoulder. 

"We  are  out  of  sight  of  the  hotel,  now,  Gen 
eral,"  he  said.  He  pointed  to  the  dark,  cool  re 
cesses  of  a  coffee-shop  and  held  back  the  rug  that 
hung  before  it.  "Come  in  here,"  he  said,  "and 
tell  me  that  story." 


100 


IV 


Baron  Barrat  was  suspicious  by  education — his 
experience  of  life  and  his  own  conduct  had  tended 
to  render  him  so;  and  accordingly  when,  three 
hours  after  he  had  seen  Gordon  apparently  commit 
the  French  officer  to  jail,  he  found  them  leaving  a 
cafe  in  the  most  friendly  and  amicable  spirit,  he 
wasted  no  time  in  investigation,  but  hurried  at 
once  to  warn  the  King. 

"What  we  feared  would  happen,  has  hap 
pened,"  he  said.  "The  Frenchman  has  told  Gor 
don  that  Zara  and  Kalonay  sold  the  secret  of  the 
expedition,  and  Gordon  will  be  coming  here  to 
warn  you  of  it.  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do? 
We  must  act  quickly." 

"I  shall  refuse  to  believe  the  Frenchman,  of 
course,"  said  the  King.  "I  shall  ask  Zara  in  his 
presence  to  answer  his  charges,  and  she  will  tell 
him  he  lies.  That  is  all  there  will  be  of  it.  What 
does  it  matter  what  he  says  ?  We  sail  at  midnight. 
We  can  keep  him  quiet  until  then." 

"If  he  is  troublesome  I  can  call  for  help  from 
this  room,  and  the  servants  of  the  hotel  and  the 

101 


;  King's  Jackal 


guards  will  rush  in  and  find  us  struggling  together. 
We  will  charge  him  with  an  attempt  at  assassina 
tion,  and  this  time  he  surely  will  go  to  jail.  By 
to-morrow  morning  we  shall  be  many  miles  at  sea." 

"But  he  can  cable  to  Messina,  by  way  of  Gib 
raltar,  and  head  us  off,"  objected  Barrat. 

"What  can  he  cable?"  demanded  the  King. 
"Nothing  the  people  of  the  Republic  do  not  al 
ready  know.  I(^is  our  friends  here  that  must  not 
find  us  out.  That  is  the  main  thing.  Thank 
Heaven!"  he  exclaimed,  "Kalonay  and  Paul  are 
out  of  the  way,  and  those  crazy  boys  from  Paris. 
We  will  settle  it  here  among  ourselves  in  five 
minutes." 

"And  the  American?"  asked  Zara.  "He  knows, 
he  will  come  with  him.  Suppose  he  believes,  sup 
pose  he  believes  that  Kalonay  and  I  have  sold  you 
out,  but  suspects  that  you  know  it?" 

"The  American  can  go  to  the  devil,"  said  the 
King.  "Confound  him  and  his  insolence.  I'll 
have  him  in  the  prison  too,  if  he  interferes.  Or 
Erhaupt  can  pick  a  quarrel  with  him  here  and  fight 
it  out  behind  the  sand-hills  before  the  others  get 
back  from  their  picnic.  He  has  done  as  much  for 
me  before." 

Zara  stood  up.  She  was  trembling  slightly,  and 
she  glanced  fearfully  from  Erhaupt  to  the  King. 

102 


The  King's 

"You  will  not  do  that,"  she  said. 

"And  why  not,  madame?"  demanded  Louis. 

"Because  it  will  be  murder,"  Zara  whispered. 
"He  will  murder  him  as  he  did  that  boy  in  the 
Park  at  Pesth." 

"What  does  the  woman  mean?"  growled  the 
German.  "Is  she  mad?  Send  her  to  her  room, 
Louis." 

"You  know  what  I  mean,"  Zaq^a  answered,  her 
voice  rising,  in  her  excitement.  "You  fired  before 
they  gave  the  word.  I  know  you  did.  Oh, 
Louis,"  she  cried,  "you  never  warned  me  it  might 
come  to  this.  I  am  afraid.  I  am  afraid  to  meet 
that  man " 

She  gave  a  sudden  cry.  "And  Kalonay!"  She 
held  out  her  hands  appealingly.  "Indeed,"  she 
cried,  "do  not  let  Kalonay  question  me." 

"Silence!"  commanded  the  King.  "You  are 
acting  like  a  fool."  He  advanced  toward  her,  and 
clasped  her  wrist  firmly  in  his  hand.  "No  nerves, 
now,"  he  said.  "I'll  not  have  it.  You  shall  meet 
Kalonay,  and  you  shall  swear  that  he  is  in  the  plot 
against  me.  If  you  fail  us  now,  we  are  ruined. 
As  it  is,  we  are  sure  to  lose  the  bribe  from  the 
Republic,  but  we  may  still  get  Miss  Carson's 
money  if  you  play  your  part.  It  is  your  word  and 
the  word  of  the  Frenchman  against  Kalonay's. 

103 


The  King's  Jackal 


And  we  fiave  the  paper  signed  by  you  for  Kalonay 
as  evidence.  Have  you  got  it  with  you  ?" 

Zara  bowed  her  head.  "It  is  always  with  me," 
she  answered. 

"Good,"  said  the  King.  "It  will  be  a  difficult 
chance,  but  if  you  stand  to  your  story,  and  we  pre 
tend  to  believe  you,  the  others  may  believe  you, 
too." 

"But  I  cannot,"  Zara  cried.  "I  know  I  cannot. 
I  tell  you  if  you  put  me  face  to  face  with  Kalonay, 
I  shall  fail  you.  I  shall  break  down.  They  will 
see  that  I  am  lying.  Send  me  away.  Send  me 
away  before  they  come.  Tell  them  I  saw  the 
Frenchman,  and  suspected  I  had  been  found  out, 
and  that  I  have  gone  away.  Tell  them  you  don't 
know  where  I  am." 

"I  believe  she's  right,"  Erhaupt  said.  "She  will 
do  us  more  harm  than  good.  Let  her  go  to  her 
room  and  wait  there." 

"She  will  remain  where  she  is,"  said  the  King, 
sternly.  "And  she  will  keep  her  courage  and  her 
wits  about  her,  or " 

He  was  interrupted  by  an  exclamation  from 
Barrat.  "Whatever  you  mean  to  do,  you  must  do 
it  at  once,"  he  said,  grimly.  He  was  standing  at 
the  window  which  overlooked  the  beach.  "Here 
they  come  now,"  he  continued.  "The  American 

104 


The  King's  Jackal 

has  taken  no  chances,  he  is  bringing  an  audience 
with  him." 

The  King  and  Erhaupt  ran  to  the  window,  and 
peered  over  Barrat's  shoulder. 

Advancing  toward  them  along  the  beach,  some 
on  foot,  and  some  on  horseback,  were  all  the  mem 
bers  of  the  expedition,  those  who  had  been  of  the 
riding-party  and  those  who  had  remained  in  Tan 
gier.  Gordon  and  the  Frenchman  Renauld  were 
far  in  the  lead,  walking  by  themselves  and  speak 
ing  earnestly  together;  Father  Paul  was  walking 
with  Mrs.  Carson  and  her  daughter,  and  Kalonay 
was  riding  with  two  of  the  volunteers,  the  Count 
de  Rouen  and  Prince  Henri  of  Poitiers. 

When  the  King  and  Erhaupt  turned  from  the 
window  the  Countess  Zara  had  disappeared.  "It 
is  better  so,"  said  Erhaupt;  "she  was  so  badly 
frightened  she  would  have  told  the  truth." 

The  King  stood  leaning  on  the  back  of  a  large 
arm-chair.  "Well,  the  moment  has  come,  it  is  our 
last  chance,"  he  said.  "Send  for  the  Crown 
Prince,  Baron.  I  shall  be  discovered  in  the  act  of 
taking  a  tender  farewell  of  my  son." 

Barrat  made  an  eager  gesture  of  dissent. 

"I  would  not  do  that,"  he  cried.  "If  we  are  to 
make  charges  against  the  Jackal  do  not  have  the 
boy  present;  the  boy  must  not  hear  them.  You 

105 


The  King's  Jackal 

know  how  Kalonay  worships  the  child,  and  it 
would  enrage  him  more  to  be  exposed  before  the 
Prince  than  before  all  the  rest  of  the  world.  He 
will  be  hard  enough  to  handle  without  that.  Don't 
try  him  too  far." 

"You  are  absurd,  Barrat,"  exclaimed  the  King. 
"The  boy  won't  understand  what  is  said." 

"No,  but  the  Jackal  will,"  Barrat  returned. 
"You  don't  understand  him,  Louis,  he  is  like  a 
woman;  he  has  sentiment  and  feelings,  and  when 
we  all  turn  on  him  he  will  act  like  a  madman. 
Keep  the  boy  out  of  his  sight,  I  tell  you.  It's  the 
only  thing  he  cares  for  in  the  world.  He  has  been 
a  better  father  to  him  than  you  ever  have  been." 

"That  was  quite  natural;  that  was  because  it 
was  his  duty,"  said  the  King,  calmly.  "A  Kalonay 
has  always  been  the  protector  and  tutor  of  the  heir- 
apparent.  If  this  one  chooses  to  give  his  heart 
with  his  service,  that  is  not  my  concern.  Why, 
confound  them,  they  all  think  more  of  the  child 
than  they  do  of  me.  That  is  why  I  need  him  by 


me  now." 


Barrat  shook  his  head.  "I  tell  you  it  will  make 
trouble,"  he  persisted.  "Kalonay  will  not  stand 
it.  He  and  the  child  are  more  like  comrades  than 
a  tutor  and  his  pupil.  Why,  Kalonay  would 
rather  sit  with  the  boy  in  the  Champs-Elysees  and 

106 


The  King's  Jackal 

point  out  the  people  as  they  go  by  than  drive  at 
the  side  of  the  prettiest  woman  in  Paris.  He  al 
ways  treats  him  as  though  he  saw  the  invisible 
crown  upon  his  head;  he  will  throw  over  any  of 
us  to  stay  in  the  nursery  and  play  tin  soldiers  with 
him.  And  when  he  was  ill — "  Barrat  nodded  his 
head  significantly.  "You  remember." 

"That  will  do,"  said  the  King.  "We  have  no 
time  to  consider  the  finer  feelings  of  the  Jackal; 
he  is  to  be  sacrificed,  and  that  is  all  there  is  of  it. 
The  presence  of  the  child  may  make  him  more  un 
manageable,  but  it  will  certainly  make  it  easier  for 
me.  So  go,  bring  the  boy  here  as  I  bid  you." 

Barrat  left  the  room  and  returned  immediately, 
followed  by  the  Crown  Prince  and  his  nurse.  The 
Prince  was  a  dark,  handsome  little  fellow  of  four 
years.  His  mother  had  died  when  he  was  born, 
and  he  had  never  played  with  children  of  his  own 
age,  and  his  face  was  absurdly  wise  and  wistful; 
but  it  lighted  with  a  sweet  and  grateful  smile  when 
anyone  showed  him  kindness  or  sought  to  arouse 
his  interest.  To  the  Crown  Prince  Kalonay  was 
an  awful  and  wonderful  being.  He  was  the  one 
person  who  could  make  him  laugh  out  of  pure 
happiness  and  for  no  reason,  as  a  child  should 
laugh.  And  people  who  had  seen  them  together 
asked  which  of  the  princes  was  the  older  of  the 

107 


The  King's  Jackal 

two.  When  the  child  entered  the  room,  clinging 
to  Barrat's  finger,  he  carried  in  his  other  hand  a 
wooden  spade  and  bucket,  still  damp  with  sand, 
and  he  was  dressed  in  a  shabby  blue  sailor  suit 
which  left  his  little  legs  bare,  and  exposed  the 
scratches  and  bruises  of  many  falls.  A  few 
moments  later,  when  the  conspirators  entered  the 
King's  salon,  preceded  by  Erhaupt,  they  found 
the  boy  standing  by  his  father's  knee.  The  King 
had  his  hand  upon  the  child's  head,  and  had  been 
interrupted  apparently  in  a  discourse  on  the  dig 
nity  of  kingship,  for  the  royal  crown  of  Messina 
had  been  brought  out  and  stood  beside  him  on  the 
table,  and  his  other  hand  rested  on  it  reverently. 
It  was  an  effective  tableau,  and  the  visitors  ob 
served  it  with  varying  emotions,  but  with  silence. 

The  King  rose,  taking  his  son's  hand  in  his,  and 
bowed,  looking  inquiringly  from  Barrat  to  the 
Prince  Kalonay. 

"To  what  do  I  owe  the  pleasure  of  this  visit?'* 
he  asked.  "Was  it  discreet  of  you  to  come  to 
gether  in  this  way?  But  yon  are  most  welcome. 
Place  chairs  for  the  ladies,  Barrat." 

Kalonay  glanced  at  the  others,  and  they  nodded 
to  him  as  though  to  make  him  their  spokesmaa 
He  pointed  at  Gordon  with  his  cap. 

"We  are  here  on  the  invitation  of  this  gentle- 
108 


The  King's  Jackal 

man,  your  Majesty,"  he  said.  "He  took  it  upon 
himself  to  send  after  those  of  us  who  had  gone 
into  the  country,  and  came  in  person  for  the  oth 
ers  who  remained  in  town.  He  tells  us  he  has 
news  of  the  greatest  importance  to  communicate, 
which  he  cannot  disclose  except  to  you,  and  in  the 
presence  of  all  of  those  who  are  to  take  part  in  the 
expedition.  We  decided  to  accompany  him  here, 
as  he  asked  us,  and  to  leave  it  to  your  Majesty  to 
say  whether  or  not  you  wished  us  to  remain." 
Kalonay  smiled  in  apology  at  the  King,  and  the 
King  answered  him  with  a  smile. 

"The  procedure  is  perhaps  unconventional," 
the  King  said,  "but  in  America  they  move  quickly. 
No  doubt  our  young  companion  has  acted  as  he 
thought  was  for  the  best.  If  he  has  taken  a  lib 
erty,  the  nature  of  his  news  will  probably  excuse 
him.  Perhaps,  Mr.  Gordon/'  he  added,  turning 
to  the  American,  "you  had  better  first  tell  me  what 
this  discovery  is,  and  I  will  decide  whether  it  is 
best  to  discuss  it  in  open  council." 

Gordon  did  not  appear  to  be  the  least  disturbed 
by  the  criticism  Kalonay  and  the  King  had  passed 
upon  his  conduct.  He  only  smiled  pleasantly 
when  the  King  had  finished  speaking,  and  showed 
no  inclination  to  accept  a  private  audience. 

"What  I  have  to  say,  your  Majesty,"  he  began, 
109 


The  King's  Jackal 

"is  this.  I  have  learned  that  all  the  secrets  of 
your  expedition  have  been  sold  to  the  Republic  of 
Messina.  One  of  those  now  present  in  this  room 
is  charged  with  having  sold  them.  Shall  I  go  on," 
he  asked,  "or  do  you  still  think  it  advisable  for  any 
one  to  leave  the  room?" 

He  paused  and  glanced  from  the  King  to  the 
double  row  of  conspirators,  who  were  standing 
together  in  a  close  semicircle  facing  the  King  and 
himself.  The  instant  he  ceased  speaking  there 
rose  from  their  ranks  an  outburst  of  consternation, 
of  anger,  and  of  indignant  denial.  The  King's 
spirits  rose  within  him  at  the  sound,  although  he 
frowned  and  made  a  gesture  as  though  to  com 
mand  silence. 

"Mr.  Gordon,  this  is  a  serious  charge  you 
make,"  he  said,  smiling  grimly.  "One  that  may 
cost  you  a  great  deal — it  might  cost  you  your  life 
perhaps."  He  paused  significantly,  and  there  was 
a  second  outburst,  this  time  from  the  younger  men, 
which  came  so  suddenly  that  it  was  as  though 
Louis  had  played  upon  certain  chords  on  a  key 
board,  and  the  sounds  he  wanted  had  answered 
to  his  touch. 

"Pardon  me,  that  is  not  the  question,"  said  Gor 
don.  "That  I  make  charges  or  run  risks  in  mak 
ing  charges  is  not  important.  That  your  expedi- 

no 


The  King's  Jackal 

tion  has  failed  before  it  has  even  started  is,  how 
ever,  of  great  importance,  at  least  so  it  seems  to 


me." 


There  was  a  movement  in  the  circle,  and  Father 
Paul  pushed  his  way  forward  from  his  place  be 
side  Miss  Carson's  chair.  He  was  so  greatly 
moved  that  when  he  spoke  his  voice  was  harsh  and 
broken.  "What  is  your  authority  for  saying  we 
have  failed?"  he  demanded. 

Gordon  bowed  gravely  and  turned  and  pointed 
to  the  Frenchman.  "This  gentleman,"  he  said,  "is 
General  Renauld,  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
army  of  Messina.  He  is  my  authority.  He  knows 
all  that  you  mean  to  do.  If  he  knows  it,  it  is  likely, 
is  it  not,  that  his  army  and  the  President  of  the 
Republic  know  it  also,  and  that  when  we  attempt 
to  land  they  will  be  waiting  for  us." 

The  King  silenced  the  second  outburst  that  fol 
lowed  this  by  rising  and  holding  up  his  hand. 

"Silence !  I  believe  I  can  explain,"  he  said.  He 
was  smiling,  and  his  bearing  was  easy  and  so  full 
of  assurance  that  the  exclamations  and  whispers 
died  away  on  the  instant.  "I  am  afraid  I  see  what 
has  happened,"  the  King  said.  "But  there  need 
be  no  cause  for  alarm.  This  gentleman  is,  as  Mr. 
Gordon  says,  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Mes- 
sinian  army,  and  it  is  true  he  suspected  that  an 

in 


The  King's  Jackal 

armed  force  would  invade  the  island.  It  is  not 
strange  that  he  should  have  suspected  it,  and  it 
needed  no  traitor  to  enlighten  him.  The  visit  of 
Father  Paul  and  the  Prince  Kalonay  in  the  yacht, 
and  their  speeches  inciting  the  people  to  rebellion, 
would  have  warned  the  government  that  an  expe 
dition  might  soon  follow.  The  return  of  our  yacht 
to  this  place  has  no  doubt  been  made  known  in 
Messina  through  the  public  press,  and  General 
Renauld  followed  the  yacht  here  to  learn  what  he 
could  of  our  plans — of  our  intended  movements. 
He  came  here  to  spy  on  us,  and  as  a  spy  I  ordered 
Mr.  Gordon  to  arrest  him  this  morning  on  any 
charge  he  pleased,  and  to  place  him  out  of  our 
way  until  after  to-night,  when  we  should  have 
sailed.  I  chose  Mr.  Gordon  tc  undertake  this  ser 
vice  because  he  happened  to  speak  the  language  of 
the  country,  and  it  was  necessary  to  deal  directly 
with  the  local  authorities  without  the  intervention 
of  an  outsider.  What  has  happened  is  only  too  evi 
dent.  The  spy,  who  when  he  came  here  only  sus 
pected,  now,  as  Mr.  Gordon  says,  knows  the  truth, 
and  he  could  have  learned  it  only  from  one  person, 
to  whom  he  has  no  doubt  paid  a  pretty  price  for  the 
information."  The  King  took  a  step  forward  and 
pointed  with  his  hand  at  the  American.  "I  gave 
that  man  into  your  keeping,  sir,"  he  cried,  "but  I 

112 


The  King's  Jackal 

had  you  watched.  Instead  of  placing  him  in  jail 
you  took  him  to  a  cafe  and  remained  there  with 
him  for  three  hours,  and  from  that  cafe  you  came 
directly  here  to  this  room.  If  he  knows  the  truth, 
he  learned  it  in  that  cafe,  and  he  learned  it  from 
you !"  There  was  a  ring  of  such  earnestness  and 
sincerity  in  the  King's  speech,  and  he  delivered  it 
with  such  indignation  and  bitter  contempt  that  a 
shout  of  relief,  of  approbation  and  conviction, 
went  up  from  his  hearers,  and  fell  as  quickly  on 
the  words  as  the  applause  of  an  audience  drowns 
out  the  last  note  of  a  great  burst  of  song.  Barrat, 
in  the  excess  of  his  relief,  turned  his  back  sharply 
on  the  King,  glancing  sideways  at  Erhaupt  and 
shaking  his  head  in  speechless  admiration. 

"He  is  wonderful,  simply  wonderful,"  Erhaupt 
muttered;  "he  would  have  made  a  great  actor  or 
a  great  diplomat." 

"He  is  wasted  as  a  King,"  whispered  Barrat. 

There  was  a  menacing  movement  on  the  part 
of  the  younger  men  toward  Gordon  and  General 
Renauld,  which  the  King  noted,  but  which  he 
made  no  effort  to  check.  Neither  Gordon  nor 
General  Renauld  gave  any  sign  that  they  observed 
it.  The  American  was  busily  engaged  in  search 
ing  his  pockets,  and  from  one  of  these  he  produced 
two  pieces  of  paper,  which  he  held  up  above 


The  King's  Jackal 

his  head,   so  that  those  in  the  room  might  see 
them. 

"One  moment,  please,"  he  began,  and  then 
waited  until  the  tumult  in  the  room  had  ceased. 
"Again,  I  must  point  out  to  you,"  he  said,  in  brisk, 
business-like  tones,  uthat  we  are  digressing.  The 
important  thing  is  not  who  did,  or  did  not,  sell 
out  the  expedition,  but  that  it  is  in  danger  of  fail 
ing  altogether.  What  his  Majesty  says  is  in  part 
correct.  I  did  not  take  this  gentleman  to  jail;  I 
did  take  him  to  a  cafe,  and  there  he  told  me  much 
more  concerning  the  expedition  than  I  had  learned 
from  those  directly  interested.  His  information, 
he  told  me,  had  been  sold  to  the  Republic  by  one 
who  visited  the  island  and  who  claimed  to  act  for 
one  other.  I  appreciated  the  importance  of  what 
he  said,  and  I  also  guessed  that  my  word  and  his 
unsupported  might  be  doubted,  as  you  have  just 
doubted  it.  So  I  took  the  liberty  of  verifying  what 
General  Renauld  told  me  by  cabling  to  the  Presi 
dent  of  Messina." 

There  was  a  shout  of  consternation  at  these 
words,  but  Gordon's  manner  was  so  confident  and 
the  audacity  of  his  admission  so  surprised  his  hear 
ers  that  they  were  silent  again  immediately,  and 
waited,  with  breathless  interest,  while  Gordon  un 
folded  one  of  the  pieces  of  paper. 

114 


The  King's  Jackal 

"This  is  a  copy  of  the  cablegram  I  sent  the  Pres 
ident,"  he  said,  uand  to  which,  with  his  permission, 
I  signed  General  Renauld's  name.  It  is  as  fol 
lows  : — 

The  President.  The  Palace,  Messina. — They 
will  not  believe  you  are  fully  informed.  Cable 
at  once  the  exact  hour  when  they  will  leave  Tan 
gier,  at  what  hour  they  expect  to  land,  at  what 
place  they  expect  to  land,  what  sum  you  have 
promised  to  pay  for  this  information,  and  the 
names  of  those  to  whom  it  is  to  be  paid. 

RENAULD. 

Gordon  lowered  the  paper.  "Is  that  quite 
clear?"  he  asked.  "Do  you  follow  me?  I  have 
invited  the  enemy  himself  to  inform  you  of  your 
plans,  and  to  tell  you  who  has  betrayed  them.  His 
answer,  which  was  received  a  half  hour  ago,  re 
moves  all  suspicion  from  any  save  those  he  names. 
General  Renauld  and  myself  cease  to  be  of  the 
least  consequence  in  the  matter;  we  are  only  mes 
sengers.  It  is  the  President  of  Messina  who  will 
speak  to  you  now.  If  you  still  doubt  that  the  secret 
of  your  expedition  is  known  to  the  President  you 
will  have  to  doubt  him." 

The  King  sprang  quickly  to  his  feet  and  struck 
the  arm  of  his  chair  sharply  with  his  open  hand. 


The  King's  Jackal 

"I  shall  not  permit  that  message  to  be  read,"  he 
said.  "If  we  have  a  traitor  here,  he  is  a  traitor 
against  me.  And  I  shall  deal  with  him  as  I  see 
fit,  in  private." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  disappointment  and  of 
disapproval  even,  and  the  King  again  struck  the 
arm  of  his  chair  for  silence.  Kalonay  advanced 
toward  him,  shaking  his  head  and  holding  out  his 
hands  in  protest. 

"Your  Majesty,  I  beseech  you,"  he  began. 
"This  concerns  us  all,"  he  cried.  "It  is  too  evi 
dent  that  we  have  been  betrayed;  but  it  is  not  fair 
to  any  of  us  that  we  should  all  lie  under  suspicion, 
as  we  must  unless  it  is  told  who  has  been  guilty  of 
this  infamy.  I  beg  your  Majesty  to  reconsider. 
There  is  no  one  in  this  room  who  is  not  in  our 
secret,  and  whoever  has  betrayed  us  must  be  with 
us  here  and  now.  I,  who  have  an  interest  second 
only  to  your  own,  ask  that  that  cablegram  be 
read." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  approbation  from  the 
conspirators,  and  exclamations  of  approval  and  en 
treaty.  Miss  Carson,  in  her  excitement,  had  risen 
to  her  feet  and  was  standing  holding  her  mother's 
hand.  The  King  glanced  uncertainly  at  Kalonay, 
and  then  turned  to  Barrat  and  Erhaupt  as  if  in 
doubt, 

116 


The  King's  Jackal 

Gordon's  eyes  were  fixed  for  a  moment  on  Kalo- 
nay  with  a  strange  and  puzzled  expression.  Then 
he  gave  a  short  sigh  of  relief,  and  turning  quickly 
searched  the  faces  of  those  around  him.  What 
he  saw  seemed  to  confirm  him  in  his  purpose,  for 
he  folded  the  paper  and  placed  it  in  his  pocket. 
"His  Majesty  is  right,"  he  said.  "I  shall  not  read 
this." 

Kalonay  and  Father  Paul  turned  upon-  him  an 
grily.  "You  have  no  choice  in  the  matter,  sir," 
Kalonay  cried.  "It  has  passed  entirely  out  of  your 
hands." 

"I  beg  your  Majesty  that  the  cablegram  be 
read,"  the  priest  demanded,  in  a  voice  that  held 
less  the  tone  of  a  request  than  of  a  command. 

"I  shall  not  read  it,"  persisted  Gordon,  "because 
the  person  chiefly  concerned  is  not  present." 

"That  is  all  the  more  reason  for  reading  it," 
said  Kalonay.  "Your  Majesty  must  reconsider." 

The  King  whispered  to  Barrat,  and  the  others 
waited  in  silence  that  expressed  their  interest  more 
clearly  than  a  chorus  of  questions  would  have  done, 

"It  shall  be  as  you  ask,"  the  King  said,  at  last. 
"You  may  read  the  message,  Mr.  Gordon." 

Gordon  opened  the  paper  and  looked  at  it  for 
some  seconds  of  time  with  a  grave  and  perplexed 
expression,  and  then,  with  a  short  breath,  as  one 

117 


The  King's  Jackal 

who  takes  a  plunge,  read  it  aloud.     "This  is  it,'1 
he  said. 

To  General  Renauld.  Cable  Office,  Tangier. — 
They  leave  Tangier  Tuesday  at  midnight,  they 
land  at  daybreak  Thursday  morning  on  the  south 
beach  below  the  old  breakwater.  The  secret  of 
the  expedition  was  sold  us  for  three  hundred  thou 
sand  francs  by  the  Countess  Zara  and  the  Prince 
Kalonay. 

Gordon  stuck  the  paper  in  his  pocket,  and,  cross 
ing  to  Kalonay,  held  out  his  hand,  with  a  smile. 
"I  don't  believe  it,  of  course,"  he  said;  ubut  you 
would  have  it." 

Kalonay  neither  saw  the  gesture  nor  heard  the 
words.  He  was  turning  in  bewilderment  from  the 
King  to  Father  Paul,  and  he  laughed  uncertainly. 

"What  nonsense  is  this?"  he  demanded. 
"Whose  sorry  trick  is  this?  The  lie  is  not  even 
ingenious." 

General  Renauld  had  not  spoken  since  he  had 
entered  the  room,  but  now  he  advanced  in  front 
of  Kalonay  and  faced  him  with  a  threatening 
gesture. 

"The  President  of  Messina  does  not  lie,  sir," 
he  said,  sternly.  "I  myself  saw  the  Countess  Zara 

118 


The  King's  Jackal 

write  out  that  paper,  which  I  and  others  signed, 
and  in  which  we  agreed  to  pay  to  her  and  to  you 
the  money  you  asked  for  betraying  your  King." 

Father  Paul  pressed  his  hand  heavily  on  Kalo- 
nay's  shoulder.  "  Do  not  answer  him,"  he  com 
manded.  Gordon  had  moved  to  Kalonay's  other 
side,  and  the  three  men  had  unconsciously  assumed 
an  attitude  of  defence,  and  stood  back  to  back  in 
a  little  group  facing  the  angry  circle  that  ecom- 
passed  them.  The  priest  raised  his  arm  to  com 
mand  a  hearing. 

"Where  is  Madam  Zara  ?  "  he  cried. 

"Ah,  where  indeed  ?"  echoed  the  King,  sinking 
back  into  his  chair.  "She  has  fled.  It  is  all  too 
evident  now;  she  has  betrayed  us  and  she  has 
fled." 

But  on  his  words,  as  if  in  answer  to  the  priest's 
summons,  the  curtains  that  hid  the  door  into  the 
King's  private  room  were  pulled  to  one  side,  and 
Madame  Zara  appeared  between  them,  glancing 
fearfully  at  the  excited  crowd  before  her.  As  she 
stood  hesitating  on  the  threshold,  she  swayed 
slightly  and  clutched  the  curtains  for  a  moment  as 
though  for  support.  The  priest  advanced,  and  led 
her  to  the  centre  of  the  room.  She  held  a  folded 
paper  in  her  hand,  which  she  gave  to  him  in  si 
lence 

119 


The  King's  Jackal 

"You  have  heard  what  has  passed?"  he  asked, 
with  a  toss  of  his  head  toward  the  heavy  curtains. 
The  woman  raised  her  head  and  bowed.  The 
priest  unfolded  the  paper. 

"Am  I  to  read  this?"  he  asked.  The  woman 
bowed  again. 

There  was  silence  in  the  room  while  the  priest's 
eyes  ran  quickly  over  the  paper.  He  crushed  it  in 
his  hand. 

"It  is  as  General  Renauld  says,"  he  exclaimed. 
"In  this  the  Republic  of  Messina  agrees  to  pay 
the  Countess  Zara  and  the  Prince  Kalonay  three 
hundred  thousand  francs,  if  the  expedition  is  with 
drawn  after  it  has  made  a  pretence  of  landing  on 
the  shores  of  Messina." 

He  took  a  step  forward.  "Madame  Zara,"  he 
cried,  in  a  tone  of  warning,  "do  you  pretend  that 
the  Prince  Kalonay  was  your  accomplice  in  this; 
that  he  knew  what  you  meant  to  do?" 

Madame  Zara  once  more  bowed  her  head. 

"No !  You  must  speak,"  commanded  the  priest. 
"Answer  me!" 

Zara  hesitated,  in  evident  distress,  and  glanced 
appealingly  at  the  King;  but  the  expression  on  his 
face  was  one  of  grief  and  of  unrelenting  virtue. 

"I  do,"  she  said,  at  last,  in  a  low  voice.  "Kalo 
nay  did  know.  He  thought  the  revolution  would 

120 


The  King's  Jackal 

not  succeed;  he  thought  it  would  fail,  and  so — 
and  so — and  we  needed  money.  They  made  me — 
I,  O  my  God,  I  cannot — I  cannot!"  she  cried,  sud 
denly,  sinking  on  her  knees  and  hiding  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

Kalonay  stepped  toward  her  and  lifted  her 
gently  to  her  feet;  but  when  she  looked  and  saw 
who  it  was  that  held  her,  she  gave  a  cry  and  pulled 
herself  free.  She  staggered  and  would  have 
fallen,  had  not  Gordon  caught  and  held  her  by  the 
arm.  The  King  rose  from  his  chair  and  pointed 
at  the  shrinking  figure  of  the  woman. 

"Stand  aside  from  her,"  he  said,  sternly.  "Why 
should  we  pity  her,  what  pity  has  she  shown  for 
us — for  me?  She  has  robbed  me  of  my  inheri 
tance.  But  let  her  go,  she  is  a  woman ;  we  cannot 
punish  her.  Her  sins  rest  on  her  own  head.  But 
you — you,"  he  cried,  turning  fiercely  on  Kalonay, 
his  voice  rising  to  a  high  and  melancholy  key, 
"you  whom  I  have  heaped  with  honors,  whom  I 
have  leaned  upon  as  on  the  arm  of  a  brother,  that 
you  should  have  sold  me  for  silver,  that  you  should 
have  turned  Judas!" 

The  crowrl  of  volunteers,  bewildered  by  the 
rapid  succession  of  events,  and  confused  and  ren 
dered  desperate  by  the  failure  of  their  expedition, 
caught  up  the  word,  and  pressing  forward  with  a 

121 


The  King's  Jackal 

rush,  surrounded  Kalonay  in  an  angry  circle,  cry« 
ing  "Judas!"  "Traitor!"  an/i  "Coward!" 

Kalonay  turned  from  side  to  side.  On  some  he 
smiled  bitterly  in  silence,  and  at  others  he  broke 
out  into  swift  and  fierce  denunciations;  but  the  men 
around  him  crowded  closer  and  would  not  permit 
him  to  be  heard.  He  had  turned  upon  them,  again 
challenging  tnem  to  listen,  when  there  was  an 
opening  in  the  circle  and  the  men  stepped  back, 
and  Miss  Carson  pushed  her  way  among  them  and 
halted  at  Kalonay's  side.  She  did  not  look  at  him, 
but  at  the  men  about  him.  She  was  the  only  calm 
figure  in  the  group,  and  her  calmness  at  such  a 
crisis,  and  her  youth,  and  the  fineness  and  fearless 
ness  of  her  beauty,  surprised  them  into  a  sudden 
quiet.  There  was  instantly  a  cry  for  order,  and 
the  men  stood  curious  and  puzzled,  watching  to 
see  what  she  would  do. 

"Gentlemen,"  she  said,  in  a  clear,  grave  voice. 
"Gentlemen,"  she  repeated,  sharply,  as  a  few  mur 
murs  still  greeted  her,  "if  you  are  gentlemen,  let 
this  lady  speak.  She  has  not  finished."  She 
crossed  quickly  and  took  the  Countess  Zara  by  the 
hand.  "Go  on,  madame,"  she  urged,  gently.  "Do 
not  be  afraid.  You  say  they  made  you  do  it.  Who 
made  you  do  it?  You  have  told  us  a  part  of  the 
truth.  Now  tell  us  the  whole  truth."  For  a  mo- 

122 


The  King's  Jackal 

ment  the  girl  seemed  much  the  older  of  the  two, 
and  as  Zara  glanced  up  at  her  fearfully,  she  smiled 
to  reassure  her,  and  stroked  the  woman's  hand 
with  her  own.  "Who  made  you  do  it?"  she  re 
peated.  "Not  the  Prince  Kalonay,  surely.  You 
cannot  hope  to  make  us  believe  that.  We  trust 
him  absolutely.  Who  was  it,  then?" 

The  King  sprang  forward  with  an  oath;  his 
apathy  and  mock  dignity  had  fallen  from  him  like 
a  mask.  His  face  was  mottled,  and  his  vicious 
little  eyes  flashed  with  fear  and  anger.  Erhaupt 
crowded  close  behind  him,  crouching  like  a  dog 
at  his  heels. 

"She  has  lied  enough  already,"  the  King  cried. 
"We  will  not  listen  to  her.  Take  her  away." 

"Yes,  let  her  go,"  shouted  Erhaupt,  with  a 
laugh.  "If  she  had  been  a  decent  woman " 

There  was  a  quick  parting  in  the  group  and  the 
sound  of  a  heavy  blow  as  Kalonay  flung  himself 
upon  Erhaupt  and  struck  him  in  the  face,  so  that 
he  staggered  and  fell  at  length  upon  the  floor. 
Gordon  stood  over  him,  his  fingers  twitching  at  his 
side. 

"Stand  up,  you  bully,"  he  said,  "and  get  out  of 
this,  before  we  throw  you  out." 

Zara's  face  had  turned  a  pitiful  crimson,  but  her 
eyes  flashed  and  burned  with  resolve  and  indigna- 

123 


The  King's  Jackal 

tion.  She  stood  erect  and  menacing,  like  an  angry 
goddess,  and  more  beautiful  in  her  indignation 
than  they  had  ever  seen  her. 

"Now,  I  shall  tell  them  the  truth,"  she  said, 
sternly.  "That  man,"  she  cried,  pointing  her  fin 
ger  at  the  King,  "that  man  whom  they  call  a 
King — that  man  who  would  have  sacrificed  the 
only  friend  who  serves  him  unselfishly — is  the  man 
who  sold  your  secret  to  the  enemy.  It  was  he  who 
made  me  do  it.  He  sent  me  to  Messina,  and  while 
the  priest  and  the  Prince  Kalonay  were  working 
in  the  south,  I  sold  them  to  the  government  at  the 
capital.  Barrat  knew  it,  Erhaupt  knew  it,  the 
King  himself  planned  it — to  get  money.  He  has 
robbed  all  of  his  own  people;  he  had  meant  to  rob 
this  young  girl;  and  he  is  so  mean  and  pitiful  a 
creature  that  to  save  himself  he  now  tries  to  hide 
behind  the  skirts  of  a  woman,  and  to  sacrifice  her, 
— the  woman  who  has  given  her  soul  to  him. 
And  for  this — my  God!"  she  cried,  her  voice  ris 
ing  in  an  accent  of  agony  and  bitter  contempt — 
"for  this!" 

There  was  a  grim  and  momentous  silence  in  the 
room  while  Zara  turned,  and  without  waiting  to 
learn  what  effect  her  words  might  have,  made  her 
way  swiftly  through  the  crowd  and  passed  on  out 
of  the  room  and  on  to  the  terrace  beyond. 

124 


The  King's  Jackal 

The  King  crouched  back  in  his  chair  like  a 
common  criminal  in  the  dock,  glancing  fearfully 
from  under  his  lowered  eyebrows  at  the  faces 
about  him,  and  on  none  did  he  see  the  least  ques 
tion  of  doubt  but  that  Zara  had  at  last  spoken  the 
truth. 

'"'She  lies,"  the  King  muttered,  as  though  an 
swering  their  unspoken  thoughts,  "the  woman 
lies." 

There  was  no  movement  from  the  men  about 
him.  Shame  for  him,  and  grief  and  bitter  disap 
pointment  for  themselves,  showed  on  the  face  of 
each.  From  outside  a  sea-breeze  caught  up  the 
sand  of  the  beach  and  drove  it  whispering  against 
the  high  windows,  and  the  beat  of  the  waves  upon 
the  shores  filled  out  and  marked  the  silence  of  the 
room. 

The  Prince  Kalonay  stepped  from  the  circle  and 
stood  for  a  moment  before  the  King,  regarding 
him  with  an  expression  of  grief  and  bitter  irony. 
The  King's  eyes  rose  insolently,  and  faltered,  and 
sank. 

"For  many  years,  your  Majesty,"  the  Prince 
said,  but  so  solemnly  that  it  was  as  though  he  were 
a  judge  upon  the  bench,  or  a  priest  speaking 
across  an  open  grave,  "the  Princes  of  my  house 
have  served  the  Kings  of  yours.  In  times  of  war 

125 


The  King's  Jackal 

they  fought  for  the  King  in  battle,  they  beggared 
themselves  for  him  in  times  of  peace;  our  women 
sold  their  jewels  for  the  King,  our  men  gave  him 
their  lives,  and  in  all  of  these  centuries  the  story 
of  their  loyalty,  of  their  devotion,  has  had  but  one 
sequel,  and  has  met  with  but  one  reward, — ingrati 
tude  and  selfishness  and  treachery.  You  know 
how  I  have  served  you,  Louis.  You  know  that  I 
gave  up  my  fortune  and  my  home  to  go  into  exile 
with  you,  and  I  did  that  gladly.  But  I  did  more 
than  that.  I  did  more  than  any  king  or  any  man 
has  the  right  to  expect  of  any  other  man.  I  served 
your  idle  purposes  so  well  that  you,  yourself,  called 
me  your  Jackal,  the  only  title  your  Majesty  has 
ever  bestowed  that  was  deserved.  There  is  no  low 
thing  nor  no  base  thing  that  I  have  not  done  for 
you.  To  serve  your  pleasures,  to  gain  you  money, 
I  have  sunken  so  low  that  all  the  royal  blood  in 
Europe  could  not  make  me  clean.  But  there  is  a 
limit  to  what  a  man  may  do  for  his  King,  and  to 
the  loyalty  a  King  may  have  the  right  to  demand. 
And  to-day  and  here,  with  me,  the  story  of  our 
devotion  to  your  House  ends,  and  you  go  your 
way  and  I  go  mine,  and  the  last  of  my  race  breaks 
his  sword  and  throws  it  at  your  feet,  and  is  done 
with  you  and  yours  forever." 

Even  those  in  the  room  who  held  no  sympathy 
126 


The  King's  Jackal 

in  their  hearts  for  the  sentiment  that  had  inspired 
the  young  man,  felt  that  at  that  moment  and  in 
their  hearing  he  had  renounced  what  was  to  him 
his  religion  and  his  faith,  and  on  the  faces  of  all 
was  the  expression  of  a  deep  pity  and  concern. 
Their  own  adventure,  in  the  light  of  his  grief  and 
bitterness  of  spirit,  seemed  selfish  and  little,  and 
they  stood  motionless,  in  an  awed  and  sorrowful 
silence. 

The  tense  strain  of  the  moment  was  broken  sud 
denly  by  the  advent  on  the  scene  of  an  actor  who 
had,  in  the  rush  of  events,  been  neglected  and  for 
gotten.  The  little  Crown  Prince  had  stood  cling 
ing  to  his  nurse's  skirts,  an  uncomprehending  spec 
tator  of  what  was  going  forward.  But  he  now  ad 
vanced  slowly,  feeling  that  the  silence  invited  him 
to  claim  his  father's  notice.  He  halted  beside  the 
chair  in  which  Louis  sat,  his  head  bent  on  his 
hands,  and  made  an  effort  to  draw  himself  up  to 
his  father's  knee. 

But  the  King  pushed  him  down,  and  hid  his  face 
from  him.  The  child  turned  irresolutely,  with  a 
troubled  countenance,  and,  looking  up,  saw  that 
the  attention  of  all  was  fixed  upon  him.  At  this 
discovery  a  sudden  flood  of  shyness  overtook  him, 
and  he  retreated  hastily  until  his  eyes  fell  on  the 
Prince  Kalonay,  standing  alone,  with  his  own  eyes 

127 


The  King's  Jackal 

turned  resolutely  away.  There  was  a  breathless 
hush  in  the  room  as  the  child,  with  a  happy  sigh, 
ran  to  his  former  friend  and  comrade,  and  reached 
up  both  his  arms.  The  tableau  was  a  familiar  one 
to  those  who  knew  them,  and  meant  only  that  the 
child  asked  to  be  lifted  up  and  swung  to  the  man's 
shoulder;  but  following  as  it  did  on  what  had  just 
passed,  the  gesture  and  the  attitude  carried  with 
them  the  significance  of  an  appeal.  Kalonay,  as 
though  with  a  great  effort,  lowered  his  eyes  to  the 
upturned  face  of  the  child  below  him,  but  held 
himself  back  and  stood  stiffly  erect.  A  sharp  shake 
of  the  head,  as  though  he  argued  with  himself, 
was  the  only  sign  he  gave  of  the  struggle  that  was 
going  on  within  him. 

At  this  second  repulse,  the  child's  arms  dropped 
to  his  side,  his  lips  quivered,  and  he  stood,  a  lonely 
little  figure,  glancing  up  at  the  circle  of  men  about 
him,  and  struggling  to  press  back  the  tears  that 
came  creeping  to  his  eyes. 

Kalonay  regarded  him  steadfastly  for  a  brief 
moment,  as  though  he  saw  him  as  a  stranger, 
searching  his  face  with  eyes  as  pitiful  as  the  child's 
own;  and  then,  with  a  sudden,  sharp  cry,  the 
Prince  dropped  on  his  knee  and  caught  the  child 
toward  him,  crushing  him  against  his  heart,  and 
burying  his  face  on  his  shoulder.  There  was  a 

128 


The  King's  Jackal 

shout  of  exultation  from  the  nobles,  and  an  uttered 
prayer  from  the  priest,  and  in  a  moment  the  young 
men  had  crowded  in  around  them,  struggling  to 
be  the  first  to  kiss  the  child's  hands,  and  to  ask 
pardon  of  the  man  who  held  him  in  his  arms. 

"Gentlemen,"  Kalonay  cried,  his  voice  laughing 
through  his  tears,  "we  shall  still  sail  for  the  island 
of  Messina.  They  shall  not  say  of  us  that  we 
visited  the  sins  of  the  father  on  a  child.  I  was 
weak,  my  friends,  and  I  was  credulous.  I  thought 
I  could  break  the  tradition  of  centuries.  But  our 
instincts  are  stronger  than  our  pride,  and  the 
House  I  have  always  served  I  shall  serve  to  the 
last."  He  swung  the  Crown  Prince  high  upon  his 
shoulder,  and  held  his  other  arm  above  his  head. 
"You  will  help  me  place  this  child  upon  his 
throne,"  he  commanded,  and  the  room  rang  with 
cheers.  "You  will  appeal  to  his  people,"  he  cried. 
"Do  you  not  think  they  will  rise  to  this  standard- 
bearer,  will  they  not  rally  to  his  call?  For  he  is 
a  true  Prince,  my  comrades,  who  comes  to  them 
with  no  stain  of  wrong  or  treachery,  without  a 
taint,  as  untarnished  as  the  white  snow  that  lies 
summer  and  winter  in  the  hollow  of  our  hills,  'and 
a  child  shall  lead  us,  and  a  child  shall  set  them 
free/  To  the  yacht!"  he  shouted.  "We  will  sail 
at  once,  and  while  they  wait  for  us  to  be  betrayed 

129 


The  King's  Jackal 

into  their  hands  at  the  north,  we  shall  be  landing 
in  the  south,  and  thousands  will  be  hurrying  to  our 
standard." 

His  last  words  were  lost  in  a  tumult  of  cheers 
and  cries,  and  the  young  men  poured  out  upon  the 
terrace,  running  toward  the  shore,  and  filling  the 
soft  night-air  with  shouts  of  "Long  live  the  Prince 
Regent!"  "Long  live  our  King!" 

As  the  room  grew  empty  Kalonay  crossed  it 
swiftly  and  advancing  to  Miss  Carson  took  her 
hand.  His  face  was  radiant  with  triumph  and  con 
tent.  He  regarded  her  steadily  for  a  moment,  as 
though  he  could  not  find  words  to  tell  his  feelings. 

"You  had  faith  in  me,"  he  said,  at  last.  "Can  I 
ever  make  you  understand  how  much  that  means 
to  me?  When  all  had  turned  against  me  you 
trusted  me,  you  had  faith  in  me,  in  the  King's 
Jackal." 

"Silence;  you  must  never  say  that  again,"  the 
girl  commanded,  gently.  "You  have  shown  it  to  be 
the  lie  it  always  was.  We  shall  call  you  the  De 
fender  of  the  Faith  now;  you  are  the  guardian  of  a 
King."  She  smiled  at  the  little  boy  in  his  arms, 
and  made  a  slight  courtesy  to  them  both.  "You 
have  outgrown  your  old  title,"  she  said;  "you  have 
a  proud  one  now,  you  will  be  the  Prince  Regent." 

Kalonay,  with  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  Miss 
130 


The  King's  Jackal 

Carson  were  standing  quite  alone.  General  Re- 
nauld  had  been  led  away,  guarded  by  a  merry 
band  of  youngsters;  the  King  still  crouched  in  his 
chair,  with  Barrat  bowed  behind  him,  but  pulling, 
with  philosophic  calm,  on  a  cigarette,  and  Father 
Paul  and  Gordon  were  in  close  conversation  with 
Mrs.  Carson  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room.  The 
sun  had  set,  and  the  apartment  was  in  semi-dark 
ness.  Kalonay  moved  closer  to  Miss  Carson  and 
looked  boldly  into  her  eyes.  "There  is  a  prouder 
title  than  that  of  the  Regent,"  he  whispered;  "will 
you  ever  give  it  me?" 

The  girl  started,  breathing  quickly,  and  turned 
her  head  aside,  making  an  effort  to  free  her  hand, 
but  Kalonay  held  it  closer  in  his  own.  "Will  you 
give  it  me?"  he  begged. 

Then  the  girl  looked  up  at  him  smiling,  but  with 
such  confidence  and  love  in  her  eyes  that  he  read 
his  answer,  though  she  shook  her  head,  as  though 
to  belie  the  truth  her  eyes  had  told  him. 

"When  you  have  done  your  work,"  she  said, 
"come  to  me  or  send  for  me,  and  I  shall  come  and 
give  you  my  answer;  and  whether  you  fail  or  suc 
ceed  the  answer  will  be  the  same." 

Kalonay  stooped  quickly  and  kissed  her  hand, 
and  when  he  raised  his  face  his  eyes  were  smiling 
with  such  happiness  that  the  little  child  in  his  arms 


The  King's  Jackal 

read  it  there,  and  smiled  too  in  sympathy,  and 
pressed  his  face  closer  against  his  comrade's  shoul 
der. 

Gordon  at  this  moment  moved  across  the  room 
and  bowed,  making  a  deep  obeisance  to  the  child. 

"Might  I  be  permitted,"  he  asked,  "to  kiss  his 
Royal  Highness?  I  should  like  to  boast  of  the 
fact,  later,"  he  explained. 

The  Crown  Prince  turned  his  sad,  wise  eyes  on 
him  in  silence,  and  gravely  extended  a  little  hand. 

"You  may  kiss  his  Highness's  hand,"  said  Kalo- 
nay,  smiling. 

Gordon  laughed  and  pressed  the  fingers  in  his 
own. 

"When  you  talk  like  that,  Kalonay,"  he  said, 
"you  make  me  feel  like  Alice  in  the  court-room 
with  the  Kings  and  Queens  around  her.  A  dozen 
times  this  afternoon  I've  felt  like  saying,  'After 
all,  they  are  only  a  pack  of  cards.' ' 

Kalonay  shook  his  head  and  glanced  toward 
Miss  Carson  for  enlightenment. 

"I  don't  understand,"  he  said. 

"No,  you  couldn't  be  expected  to,"  said  Gor 
don  ;  "you  have  not  been  educated  up  to  that.  It 
is  the  point  of  view." 

He  stuck  out  the  middle  finger  of  his  hand,  and 
drove  It  three  times  deliberately  into  the  side  of  the 

132 


The  King's  Jackal 

Crown  Prince.  The  child  gasped  and  stared  open- 
mouthed  at  the  friendly  stranger,  and  then  catch- 
mg  the  laugh  in  Gordon's  eyes,  laughed  with  him. 

"Now,"  said  Gordon,  "I  shall  say  that  I  have 
dug  the  King  of  Messina  in  the  ribs — that  is  even 
better  than  having  kissed  him.  God  bless  your 
Royal  Highness,"  he  said,  bowing  gravely.  "You 
may  find  me  disrespectful  at  times,"  he  added; 
"but  then,  you  must  remember,  I  am  going  to  risk 
a  valuable  life  for  you.  At  least  it's  an  extremely 
valuable  one  to  me." 

Kalonay  looked  at  Gordon  for  a  moment  with 
serious  consideration,  and  then  held  out  his  hand. 
"You  also  had  faith  in  me,"  he  said.  "I  thank 
you.  Are  you  in  earnest;  do  you  really  wish  to 
serve  us?" 

"I  mean  to  stay  by  you  until  the  boy  is 
crowned,"  said  the  American,  "unless  we  separate 
on  our  several  paths  of  glory — where  they  will 
lead  depends,  I  imagine,  on  how  we  have  lived." 

"Or  on  how  we  die,"  Kalonay  added.  "I  am 
glad  to  hear  you  speak  so.  If  you  wish,  I  shall 
attach  you  to  the  person  of  the  Crown  Prince.  You 
shall  be  on  the  staff  with  the  rank  of  Colonel." 

Gordon  made  a  low  and  sweeping  bow. 

"Rise,  Sir  Archibald  Gordon,"  he  said.  "I 
thank  you,"  he  added.  "We  shall  strive  to  please.'* 

133 


The  Kings  Jackal 

Miss  Carson  shook  her  head  at  him,  and  sighed 
in  protest. 

"Will  you  always  take  everything  as  a  joke, 
Archie?"  she  said. 

"My  dear  Patty,"  he  answered,  "the  situation 
is  much  too  serious  to  take  in  any  other  way." 

They  moved  to  the  door,  and  there  the  priest 
and  Mrs.  Carson  joined  them;  but  on  the  threshold 
Kalonay  stopped  and  looked  for  the  first  time  since 
he  had  addressed  him  at  the  King. 

He  regarded  him  for  some  seconds  sternly  in 
silence,  and  then  pointed,  with  his  free  hand,  at 
the  crown  of  Messina,  which  still  rested  on  the 
table  at  the  King's  elbow.  "Colonel  Gordon,"  he 
said,  in  a  tone  of  assured  authority,  "I  give  the 
crown  of  Messina  into  your  keeping.  You  will 
convey  it,  with  all  proper  regard  for  its  dignity, 
safely  on  board  the  yacht,  and  then  bring  it  at  once 


to  me." 


When  he  had  finished  speaking  the  Prince 
turned  and,  without  looking  at  the  King,  passed 
on  with  the  others  across  the  terrace  and  disap 
peared  in  the  direction  of  the  shore,  where  the 
launch  lay  waiting. 

Gordon  crossed  the  room  and  picked  up  the 
crown  from  the  table,  lifting  it  with  both  hands, 
the  King  and  Barrat  watching  him  in  silence  as  he 

134 


The  King's  Jackal 

did  so.  He  hesitated,  and  held  it  for  a  moment^ 
regarding  it  with  much  the  same  expression  of  awe 
and  amusement  that  a  man  shows  when  he  is  per 
mitted  to  hold  a  strange  baby  in  his  arms.  Turn 
ing,  he  saw  the  sinister  eyes  of  the  King  and  of 
Barrat  fastened  upon  him,  and  he  smiled  awk 
wardly,  and  in  some  embarrassment  turned  the 
crown  about  in  his  hands,  so  that  the  jewels  in  its 
circle  gleamed  dully  in  the  dim  light  of  the  room. 
Gordon  raised  the  crown  and  balanced  it  on  his 
finger-tips,  regarding  it  severely  and  shaking  his 
head. 

"There  are  very  few  of  these  left  in  the  world 
now,  your  Majesty,"  he  said,  cheerfully,  "and  the 
number  is  getting  smaller  every  year.  We  have 
none  at  all  in  my  country,  and  I  should  think — 
seeing  they  are  so  few — that  those  who  have  them 
would  take  better  care  of  them,  and  try  to  keep 
them  untarnished,  and  brushed  up,  and  clean." 
He  turned  his  head  and  looked  inquiringly  at  the 
King,  but  Louis  made  no  sign  that  he  heard 
him. 

"I  have  no  desire,  you  understand  me,"  con 
tinued  Gordon,  unabashed,  "to  take  advantage  of 
a  man  when  he  is  down,  but  the  temptation  to  say 
'I  told  you  so'  seems  almost  impossible  to  resist. 
What?"  he  asked — "I  beg  your  pardon,  I  thought 

135 


The  King's  Jackal 

you  spoke,"  But  the  King  continued  scornfully 
silent,  and  only  a  contemptuous  snort  from  Barrat 
expressed  his  feelings. 

Gordon  placed  the  crown  carefully  under  his 
arm,  and  then  removed  it  quickly,  with  a  guilty 
look  of  dismay  at  its  former  owner,  and  let  it 
swing  from  his  hand;  but  this  fashion  of  carrying 
it  seemed  also  lacking  in  respect,  so  he  held  it  up 
again  with  both  hands  and  glanced  at  the  King 
in  some  perplexity. 

"There  oug'it  to  be  a  sofa-cushion  to  go  with 
this,  or  something  to  carry  it  on,"  he  said,  in  a 
grieved  tone.  "You  see,  I  am  new  at  this  sort  of 
thing.  Perhaps  your  Majesty  would  kindly  give 
me  some  expert  information.  How  do  you  gen 
erally  carry  it?" 

The  King's  eyes  snapped  open  and  shut  again 

"On  my  head,"  he  said,  grimly. 

Gordon  laughed  in  great  relief. 

"Now,  do  you  know,  I  like  that,"  he  cried. 
"That  shows  spirit.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  take  it 
so  cheerfully.  Well,  I  must  be  going,  sir,"  he 
added,  nodding,  and  moving  toward  the  door. 
"Don't  be  discouraged.  As  someone  says,  'It's 
always  morning  somewhere,'  and  in  my  country 
there's  just  as  good  men  out  of  office  as  there  are 
in  it.  Good-night." 

136 


The  King's  Jackal 

While  the  sound  of  Gordon's  footsteps  died 
away  across  the  marble  terrace,  the  King  and  Bar- 
rat  remained  motionless  and  silent.  The  darkness 
in  the  room  deepened  and  the  silence  seemed  to 
deepen  with  it;  and  still  they  remained  immovable, 
two  shadowy  figures  in  the  deserted  apartment 
where  the  denunciations  of  those  who  had  aban 
doned  them  still  seemed  to  hang  and  echo  in  the 
darkness.  What  thoughts  passed  through  their 
minds  or  for  how  long  a  time  they  might  still  have 
sat  in  bitter  contemplation  can  only  be  guessed, 
for  they  were  surprised  by  the  sharp  rattle  of  a 
lock,  the  two  great  doors  of  the  adjoining  room 
were  thrown  wide  open,  and  a  broad  and  brilliant 
light  flooded  the  apartment.  Niccolas,  the  King's 
major-domo,  stood  between  the  doors,  a  black  sil 
houette  against  the  glare  of  many  candles. 

"His  Majesty  is  served!"  he  said. 

The  King  lifted  his  head  sharply,  as  though  he 
found  some  lurking  mockery  in  the  words,  or  some 
fresh  affront;  but  in  the  obsequious  bow  of  his 
major-domo  there  was  no  mockery,  and  the  table 
beyond  glistened  with  silver,  while  a  pungent  and 
convincing  odor  of  rich  food  was  wafted  insidi 
ously  through  the  open  doors. 

The  King  rose  with  a  gentle  sigh,  and  nodded 
to  his  companion. 

137 


The  King's  Jackal 

"Come,  Barrat,"  he  said,  taking  the  baron's 
arm  in  his.  "The  rascals  have  robbed  us  of  our 
throne,  but,  thank  God,  they  have  had  the  grace  to 
leave  me  my  appetite." 


138 


THE  REPORTER  WHO  MADE 
HIMSELF  KING 


The    Reporter  Who    Made 
Himself  King 

THE  Old  Time  Journalist  will  tell  you  that 
the  best  reporter  is  the  one  who  works  his 
way  up.  He  holds  that  the  only  way  to  start  is 
as  a  printer's  devil  or  as  an  office  boy,  to  learn  in 
time  to  set  type,  to  graduate  from  a  compositor 
into  a  stenographer,  and  as  a  stenographer  take 
down  speeches  at  public  meetings,  and  so  finally 
grow  into  a  real  reporter,  with  a  fire  badge  on 
your  left  suspender,  and  a  speaking  acquaintance 
with  all  the  greatest  men  in  the  city,  not  even  ex 
cepting  Police  Captains. 

That  is  the  old  time  journalist's  idea  of  it.  That 
is  the  way  he  was  trained,  and  that  is  why  at  the 
age  of  sixty  he  is  still  a  reporter.  If  you  train  up 
a  youth  in  this  way,  he  will  go  into  reporting  with 
too  full  a  knowledge  of  the  newspaper  business, 
with  no  illusions  concerning  it,  and  with  no  igno 
rant  enthusiasms,  but  with  a  keen  and  justifiable 
impression  that  he  is  not  paid  enough  for  what  he 
does.  And  he  will  only  do  what  he  is  paid  to  do. 

Copyright,  1891,  1896,  by  Charles  Scribner's  Sons, 
141 


The  Reporter  Who 

Now,  you  cannot  pay  a  good  reporter  for  what 
he  does,  because  he  does  not  work  for  pay.  He 
works  for  his  paper.  He  gives  his  time,  his  health, 
his  brains,  his  sleeping  hours,  and  his  eating  hours, 
and  sometimes  his  life,  to  get  news  for  it.  He 
thinks  the  sun  rises  only  that  men  may  have  light 
by  which  to  read  it.  But  if  he  has  been  in  a  news 
paper  office  from  his  youth  up,  he  finds  out  before 
he  becomes  a  reporter  that  this  is  not  so,  and  loses 
his  real  value.  He  should  come  right  out  of  the 
University  where  he  has  been  doing  "campus 
notes"  for  the  college  weekly,  and  be  pitchforked 
out  into  city  work  without  knowing  whether  the 
Battery  is  at  Harlem  or  Hunter's  Point,  and  with 
the  idea  that  he  is  a  Moulder  of  Public  Opinion 
and  that  the  Power  of  the  Press  is  greater  than  the 
Power  of  Money,  and  that  the  few  lines  he  writes 
are  oj  more  value  in  the  Editor's  eyes  than  is  the 
co'vmn  of  advertising  on  the  last  page,  which  they 
are  n,0fe 

After  three  years — it  is  sometimes  longer, 
sometimes  not  so  long — he  finds  out  that  he  has 
given  his  nerves  and  his  youth  and  his  enthusiasm 
in  exchange  for  a  general  fund  of  miscellaneous 
knowledge,  the  opportunity  of  personal  encounter 
with  all  the  greatest  and  most  remarkable  men  and 
events  that  have  risen  in  those  three  years,  and  a 

142 


Made  Himself  King 

great  fund  of  resource  and  patience.  He  will  find 
that  he  has  crowded  the  experiences  of  the  lifetime 
of  the  ordinary  young  business  man,  doctor,  or 
lawyer,  or  man  about  town,  into  three  short  years ; 
that  he  has  learned  to  think  and  to  act  quickly,  to 
be  patient  and  unmoved  when  everyone  else  has 
lost  his  head,  actually  or  figuratively  speaking;  to 
write  as  fast  as  another  man  can  talk,  and  to  be 
able  to  talk  with  authority  on  matters  of  which 
other  men  do  not  venture  even  to  think  until  they 
have  read  what  he  has  written  with  a  copy-boy  at 
his  elbow  on  the  night  previous. 

It  is  necessary  for  you  to  know  this,  that  you 
may  understand  what  manner  of  man  young  Albert 
Gordon  was. 

Young  Gordon  had  been  a  reporter  just  three 
years.  He  had  left  Yale  when  his  last  living  rela 
tive  died,  and  had  taken  the  morning  train  for  New 
York,  where  they  had  promised  him  reportorial 
work  on  one  of  the  innumerable  Greatest  New 
York  Dailies.  He  arrived  at  the  office  at  noon, 
and  was  sent  back  over  the  same  road  on  which  he 
had  just  come,  to  Spuyten  Duyvil,  where  a  train 
had  been  wrecked  and  everybody  of  consequence  to 
suburban  New  York  killed.  One  of  the  old  re 
porters  hurried  him  to  the  office  again  with  his 
"copy,"  and  after  he  had  delivered  that,  he  was 

143 


The  Reporter  Who 

sent  to  the  Tombs  to  talk  French  to  a  man  in  Mur 
derers'  Row,  who  could  not  talk  anything  else,  but 
who  had  shown  some  international  skill  in  the  use 
of  a  jimmy.  And  at  eight,  he  covered  a  flower- 
show  in  Madison  Square  Garden;  and  at  eleven 
was  sent  over  the  Brooklyn  Bridge  in  a  cab  to 
watch  a  fire  and  make  guesses  at  the  losses  to  the 
insurance  companies. 

He  went  to  bed  at  one,  and  dreamed  of  shat 
tered  locomotives,  human  beings  lying  still  with 
blankets  over  them,  rows  of  cells,  and  banks  of 
beautiful  flowers  nodding  their  heads  to  the  tunes 
of  the  brass  band  in  the  gallery.  He  decided  when 
he  awoke  the  next  morning  that  he  had  entered 
upon  a  picturesque  and  exciting  career,  and  as  one 
day  followed  another,  he  became  more  and  more 
convinced  of  it,  and  more  and  more  devoted  to  it. 
He  was  twenty  then,  and  he  was  now  twenty-three, 
and  in  that  time  had  become  a  great  reporter,  and 
had  been  to  Presidential  conventions  in  Chicago, 
revolutions  in  Hayti,  Indian  outbreaks  on  the 
Plains,  and  midnight  meetings  of  moonlighters  in 
Tennessee,  and  had  seen  what  work  earthquakes, 
floods,  fire,  and  fever  could  do  in  great  cities,  and 
had  contradicted  the  President,  and  borrowed 
matches  from  burglars.  And  now  he  thought  he 
would  like  to  rest  and  breathe  a  bit,  and  not  to 

144 


Made  Himself  King 

work  again  unless  as  a  war  correspondent.  The 
only  obstacle  to  his  becoming  a  great  war  corre 
spondent  lay  in  the  fact  that  there  was  no  war,  and 
a  war  correspondent  without  a  war  is  about  as  ab 
surd  an  individual  as  a  general  without  an  army. 
He  read  the  papers  every  morning  on  the  elevated 
trains  for  war  clouds ;  but  though  there  were  many 
war  clouds,  they  always  drifted  apart,  and  peace 
smiled  again.  This  was  very  disappointing  to 
young  Gordon,  and  he  became  more  and  more 
keenly  discouraged. 

And  then  as  war  work  was  out  of  the  question, 
he  decided  to  write  his  novel.  It  was  to  be  a  novel 
of  New  York  life,  and  he  wanted  a  quiet  place  in 
which  to  work  on  it.  He  was  already  making  in 
quiries  among  the  suburban  residents  of  his  ac 
quaintance  for  just  such  a  quiet  spot,  when  he  re 
ceived  an  offer  to  go  to  the  Island  of  Opeki  in  the 
North  Pacific  Ocean,  as  secretary  to  the  American 
consul  at  that  place.  The  gentleman  who  had  been 
appointed  by  the  President  to  act  as  consul  at 
Opeki  was  Captain  Leonard  T.  Travis,  a  veteran 
of  the  Civil  War,  who  had  contracted  a  severe  at 
tack  of  rheumatism  while  camping  out  at  night  in 
the  dew,  and  who  on  account  of  this  souvenir  of 
his  efforts  to  save  the  Union  had  allowed  the 
Union  he  had  saved  to  support  him  in  one  office 

145 


The  Reporter  Who 

or  another  ever  since.  He  had  met  young  Gordon 
at  a  dinner,  and  had  had  the  presumption  to  ask 
him  to  serve  as  his  secretary,  and  Gordon,  much  to 
his  surprise,  had  accepted  his  offer.  The  idea  of 
a  quiet  life  in  the  tropics  with  new  and  beautiful 
surroundings,  and  with  nothing  to  do  and  plenty 
of  time  in  which  to  do  it,  and  to  write  his  novel 
besides,  seemed  to  Albert  to  be  just  what  he 
wanted;  and  though  he  did  not  know  nor  care 
much  for  his  superior  officer,  he  agreed  to  go  with 
him  promptly,  and  proceeded  to  say  good-by  to  his 
friends  and  to  make  his  preparations.  Captain 
Travis  was  so  delighted  with  getting  such  a  clever 
young  gentleman  for  his  secretary,  that  he  referred 
to  him  to  his  friends  as  "my  attache  of  legation;" 
nor  did  he  lessen  that  gentleman's  dignity  by  tell 
ing  anyone  that  the  attache's  salary  was  to  be  five 
hundred  dollars  a  year.  His  own  salary  was  only 
fifteen  hundred  dollars;  and  though  his  brother-in- 
law,  Senator  Rainsford,  tried  his  best  to  get  the 
amount  raised,  he  was  unsuccessful.  The  consul 
ship  to  Opeki  was  instituted  early  in  the  '50*8,  to 
get  rid  of  and  reward  a  third  or  fourth  cousin  of 
the  President's,  whose  services  during  the  cam 
paign  were  important,  but  whose  after-presence 
was  embarrassing.  He  had  been  created  consul  to 
Opeki  as  being  more  distant  and  unaccessible  than 

146 


Made  Himself  King 

any  other  known  spot,  and  had  lived  and  died 
there;  and  so  little  was  known  of  the  island,  and  so 
difficult  was  communication  with  it,  that  no  one 
knew  he  was  dead,  until  Captain  Travis,  in  his 
hungry  haste  for  office,  had  uprooted  the  sad  fact. 
Captain  Travis,  as  well  as  Albert,  had  a  secondary 
reason  for  wishing  to  visit  Opeki.  His  physician 
had  told  him  to  go  to  some  warm  climate  for  his 
rheumatism,  and  in  accepting  the  consulship  his  ob 
ject  was  rather  to  follow  out  his  doctor's  orders  at 
his  country's  expense,  than  to  serve  his  country  at 
the  expense  of  his  rheumatism. 

Albert  could  learn  but  very  little  of  Opeki ;  noth 
ing,  indeed,  but  that  it  was  situated  about  one  hun 
dred  miles  from  the  Island  of  Octavia,  which  isl 
and,  in  turn,  was  simply  described  as  a  coaling- 
station  three  hundred  miles  distant  from  the  coast 
of  California.  Steamers  from  San  Francisco  to 
Yokohama  stopped  every  third  week  at  Octavia, 
and  that  was  all  that  either  Captain  Travis  or  his 
secretary  could  learn  of  their  new  home.  This  was 
so  very  little,  that  Albert  stipulated  to  stay  only  as 
long  as  he  liked  it,  and  to  return  to  the  States 
within  a  few  months  if  he  found  such  a  change  of 
plan  desirable. 

As  he  was  going  to  what  was  an  almost  undis 
covered  country,  he  thought  it  would  be  advisable 

U7 


The  Reporter  Who 

to  furnish  himself  with  a  supply  of  articles  with 
which  he  might  trade  with  the  native  Opekians, 
and  for  this  purpose  he  purchased  a  large  quantity 
of  brass  rods,  because  he  had  read  that  Stanley  did 
so,  and  added  to  these,  brass  curtain-chains,  and 
about  two  hundred  leaden  medals  similar  to  those 
sold  by  street  pedlers  during  the  Constitutional 
Centennial  celebration  in  New  York  City. 

He  also  collected  even  more  beautiful  but  less 
expensive  decorations  for  Christmas-trees,  at  a 
wholsesale  house  on  Park  Row.  These  he  hoped 
to  exchange  for  furs  or  feathers  or  weapons,  or 
for  whatever  other  curious  and  valuable  trophies 
the  Island  of  Opeki  boasted.  He  already  pictured 
his  rooms  on  his  return  hung  fantastically  with 
crossed  spears  and  boomerangs,  feather  head 
dresses,  and  ugly  idols. 

His  friends  told  him  that  he  was  doing  a  very 
foolish  thing,  and  argued  that  once  out  of  the 
newspaper  world,  it  would  be  hard  to  regain  his 
place  in  it.  But  he  thought  the  novel  that  he  would 
write  while  lost  to  the  world  at  Opeki  would  serve 
to  make  up  for  his  temporary  absence  from  it,  and 
he  expressly  and  impressively  stipulated  that  the 
editor  should  wire  him  if  there  was  a  war. 

Captain  Travis  and  his  secretary  crossed  the 
continent  without  adventure,  and  took  passage 

148 


Made  Himself  King 

from  San  Francisco  on  the  first  steamer  that 
touched  at  Octavia.  They  reached  that  island  in 
three  days,  and  learned  with  some  concern  that 
there  was  no  regular  communication  with  Opeki, 
and  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  charter  a  sail 
boat  for  the  trip.  Two  fishermen  agreed  to  take 
them  and  their  trunks,  and  to  get  them  to  their 
destination  within  sixteen  hours  if  the  wind  held 
good.  It  was  a  most  unpleasant  sail.  The  rain 
fell  with  calm,  unrelentless  persistence  from  what 
was  apparently  a  clear  sky;  the  wind  tossed  the 
waves  as  high  as  the  mast  and  made  Captain 
Travis  ill;  and  as  there  was  no  deck  to  the  big 
boat,  they  were  forced  to  huddle  up  under  pieces 
of  canvas,  and  talked  but  little.  Captain  Travis 
complained  of  frequent  twinges  of  rheumatism, 
and  gazed  forlornly  over  the  gunwale  at  the  empty 
waste  of  water. 

"If  I've  got  to  serve  a  term  of  imprisonment 
on  a  rock  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean  for  four 
years,"  he  said,  "I  might  just  as  well  have  done 
something  first  to  deserve  it.  This  is  a  pretty  way 
to  treat  a  man  who  bled  for  his  country.  This  is 
gratitude,  this  is."  Albert  pulled  heavily  on  his 
pipe,  and  wiped  the  rain  and  spray  from  his  face 
and  smiled. 

"Oh,  it  won't  be  so  bad  when  we  get  there,"  he 
149 


The  Reporter  Who 

said;  "they  say  these  Southern  people  are  always 
hospitable,  and  the  whites  will  be  glad  to  see  any 
one  from  the  States." 

"There  will  be  a  round  of  diplomatic  dinners," 
said  the  consul,  with  an  attempt  at  cheerfulness. 
"I  have  brought  two  uniforms  to  wear  at  them." 

It  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  the 
rain  ceased,  and  one  of  the  black,  half-naked  fish 
ermen  nodded  and  pointed  at  a  little  low  line  on 
the  horizon. 

"Opeki,"  he  said.  The  line  grew  in  length  until 
it  proved  to  be  an  island  with  great  mountains  ris 
ing  to  the  clouds,  and,  as  they  drew  nearer  and 
nearer,  showed  a  level  coast  running  back  to  the 
foot  of  the  mountains  and  covered  with  a  forest  of 
palms.  They  next  made  out  a  village  of  thatched 
huts  around  a  grassy  square,  and  at  some  distance 
from  the  village  a  wooden  structure  with  a  tin 
roof. 

"I  wonder  where  the  town  is,"  asked  the  consul, 
with  a  nervous  glance  at  the  fishermen.  One  of 
them  told  him  that  what  he  saw  was  the  town. 

"That?"  gasped  the  consul.  "Is  that  where  all 
the  people  on  the  island  live  ?" 

The  fisherman  nodded;  but  the  other  added  that 
there  were  other  natives  further  back  in  the  moun 
tains,  but  th£~  they  were  bad  men  who  fought  and 

150 


Made  Himself  King 

ate  each  other.  The  consul  and  his  attache  of 
legation  gazed  at  the  mountains  with  unspoken 
misgivings.  They  were  quite  near  now,  and  could 
see  an  immense  crowd  of  men  and  women,  all  of 
them  black,  and  clad  but  in  the  simplest  garments, 
waiting  to  receive  them.  They  seemed  greatly  ex 
cited  and  ran  in  and  out  of  the  huts,  and  up  and 
down  the  beach,  as  wildly  as  so  many  black  ants. 
But  in  the  front  of  the  group  they  distinguished 
three  men  who  they  could  see  were  white,  though 
they  were  clothed,  like  the  others,  simply  in  a  shirt 
and  a  short  pair  of  trousers.  Two  of  these  three 
suddenly  sprang  away  on  a  run  and  disappeared 
among  the  palm-trees;  but  the  third  one,  when  he 
recognized  the  American  flag  in  the  halyards, 
threw  his  straw  hat  in  the  water  and  began  turn 
ing  handsprings  over  the  sand. 

"That  young  gentleman,  at  least,"  said  Albert, 
gravely,  "seems  pleased  to  see  us." 

A  dozen  of  the  natives  sprang  into  the  water 
and  came  wading  and  swimming  toward  them, 
grinning  and  shouting  and  swinging  their  arms. 

"I  don't  think  it's  quite  safe,  do  you?"  said  the 
consul,  looking  out  wildly  to  the  open  sea.  "You 
see,  they  don't  know  who  I  am." 

A  great  black  giant  threw  one  arm  over  the  gun 
wale  and  shouted  something  that  sounded  as  if  it 


The  Reporter  Who 

were  spelt  Owah,  Owah,  as  the  boat  carried  him 
through  the  surf. 

"How  do  you  do?"  said  Gordon,  doubtfully. 
The  boat  shook  the  giant  off  under  the  wave  and 
beached  itself  so  suddenly  that  the  American  con 
sul  was  thrown  forward  to  his  knees.  Gordon  did 
not  wait  to  pick  him  up,  but  jumped  out  and  shook 
hands,  with  the  young  man  who  had  turned  hand 
springs,  while  the  natives  gathered  about  them  in 
a  circle  and  chatted  and  laughed  in  delighted  ex 
citement. 

"I'm  awfully  glad  to  see  you/'  said  the  young 
man,  eagerly.  "My  name's  Stedman.  I'm  from 
New  Haven,  Connecticut.  Where  are  you  from?" 

"New  York,"  said  Albert.  "This,"  he  added, 
pointing  solemnly  to  Captain  Travis,  who  was  still 
on  his  knees  in  the  boat,  "is  the  American  consul 
to  Opeki."  The  American  consul  to  Opeki  gave  a 
wild  look  at  Mr.  Stedman  of  New  Haven  and  at 
the  natives. 

"See  here,  young  man,"  he  gasped,  "is  this  all 
there  is  of  Opeki?" 

"The  American  consul?"  said  young  Stedman, 
with  a  gasp  of  amazement,  and  looking  from  Al 
bert  to  Captain  Travis.  "Why,  I  never  supposed 
they  would  send  another  here;  the  last  one  died 
about  fifteen  years  ago,  and  there  hasn't  been  one 

152 


Made  Himself  King 

since.  I've  been  living  in  the  consul's  office  with 
the  Bradleys,  but  I'll  move  out,  of  course.  I'm 
sure  I'm  awfully  glad  to  see  you.  It'll  make  it 
so  much  more  pleasant  for  me." 

"Yes,"    said    Captain    Travis,    bitterly,    as    he 
lifted  his  rheumatic  leg  over  the  boat;  "that's  why 


we  came." 


Mr.  Stedman  did  not  notice  this.  He  was  too 
much  pleased  to  be  anything  but  hospitable.  "You 
are  soaking  wet,  aren't  you?"  he  said;  "and  hun 
gry,  I  guess.  You  come  right  over  to  the  consul's 
office  and  get  on  some  other  things." 

He  turned  to  the  natives  and  gave  some  rapid 
orders  in  their  language,  and  some  of  them  jumped 
into  the  boat  at  this,  and  began  to  lift  out  the 
trunks,  and  others  ran  off  toward  a  large,  stout  old 
native,  who  was  sitting  gravely  on  a  log,  smok 
ing,  with  the  rain  beating  unnoticed  on  his  gray 
hair. 

"They've  gone  to  tell  the  King,"  said  Stedman; 
"but  you'd  better  get  something  to  eat  first,  and 
then  I'll  be  happy  to  present  you  properly." 

"The  King,"  said  Captain  Travis,  with  some 
awe;  "is  there  a  king?" 

"I  never  saw  a  king,"  Gordon  remarked,  "and 
I'm  sure  I  never  expected  to  see  one  sitting  on  a 
log  in  the  rain." 

153 


The  Reporter  Who 

"He's  a  very  good  king,"  said  Stedman,  confi 
dentially;  "and  though  you  mightn't  think  it  to 
look  at  him,  he's  a  terrible  stickler  for  etiquette 
and  form.  After  supper  he'll  give  you  an  audi 
ence  ;  and  if  you  have  any  tobacco,  you  had  better 
give  him  some  as  a  present,  and  you'd  better  say 
it's  from  the  President:  he  doesn't  like  to  take 
presents  from  common  people,  he's  so  proud.  The 
only  reason  he  borrows  mine  is  because  he  thinks 
I'm  the  President's  son." 

"What  makes  him  think  that?"  demanded  the 
consul,  with  some  shortness.  Young  Mr.  Stedman 
looked  nervously  at  the  consul  and  at  Albert,  and 
said  that  he  guessed  someone  must  have  told  him. 

The  consul's  office  was  divided  into  four  rooms 
with  an  open  court  in  the  middle,  filled  with  palms, 
and  watered  somewhat  unnecessarily  by  a  foun 
tain. 

"I  made  that,"  said  Stedman,  in  a  modest,  off 
hand  way.  "I  made  it  out  of  hollow  bamboo 
reeds  connected  with  a  spring.  And  now  I'm  mak 
ing  one  for  the  King.  He  saw  this  and  had  a  lot 
of  bamboo  sticks  put  up  all  over  the  town,  without 
any  underground  connections,  and  couldn't  make 
out  why  the  water  wouldn't  spurt  out  of  them. 
And  because  mine  spurts,  he  thinks  I'm  a  magi 


cian." 


154 


Made  Himself  King 

"I  suppose,"  grumbled  the  consul,  "someone 
told  him  that  too." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Mr.  Stedman,  uneasily. 

There  was  a  veranda  around  the  consul's  office, 
and  inside  the  walls  were  hung  with  skins,  and 
pictures  from  illustrated  papers,  and  there  was  a 
good  deal  of  bamboo  furniture,  and  four  broad, 
cool-looking  beds.  The  place  was  as  clean  as  a 
kitchen.  "I  made  the  furniture,"  said  Stedman, 
"and  the  Bradleys  keep  the  place  in  order." 

"Who  are  the  Bradleys?"  asked  Albert. 

"The  Bradleys  are  those  two  men  you  saw  with 
me,"  said  Stedman;  "they  deserted  from  a  British 
man-of-war  that  stopped  here  for  coal,  and  they 
act  as  my  servants.  One  is  Bradley,  Sr.,  and  the 
other  Bradley,  Jr." 

"Then  vessels  do  stop  here  occasionally?"  the 
consul  said,  with  a  pleased  smile. 

"Well,  not  often,"  said  Stedman.  "Not  so 
very  often;  about  once  a  year.  The  Nelson 
thought  this  was  Octavia,  and  put  off  again  as 
soon  as  she  found  out  her  mistake,  but  the  Brad- 
leys  took  to  the  bush,  and  the  boat's  crew  couldn't 
find  them.  When  they  saw  your  flag,  they  thought 
you  might  mean  to  send  them  back,  so  they  ran 
off  to  hide  again;  they'll  be  back,  though,  when 
they  get  hungry." 

155 


The  Reporter  Who 

The  supper  young  Stedman  spread  for  .his 
guests,  as  he  still  treated  them,  was  very  refreshing 
and  very  good.  There  was  cold  fish  and  pigeon- 
pie,  and  a  hot  omelet  filled  with  mushrooms  and 
olives  and  tomatoes  and  onions  all  sliced  up  to 
gether,  and  strong  black  coffee.  After  supper, 
Stedman  went  off  to  see  the  King,  and  came  back 
in  a  little  while  to  say  that  his  Majesty  would  give 
them  an  audience  the  next  day  after  breakfast. 
"It  is  too  dark  now,"  Stedman  explained;  "and  it's 
raining  so  that  they  can't  make  the  street-lamps 
burn.  Did  you  happen  to  notice  our  lamps?  I 
invented  them ;  but  they  don't  work  very  well  yet. 
I've  got  the  right  idea,  though,  and  I'll  soon  have 
the  town  illuminated  all  over,  whether  it  rains  or 
not." 

The  consul  had  been  very  silent  and  indifferent, 
during  supper,  to  all  around  him.  Now  he  looked 
up  with  some  show  of  interest. 

"How  much  longer  is  it  going  to  rain,  do  you 
think?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Stedman,  critically. 
"Not  more  than  two  months,  I  should  say."  The 
consul  rubbed  his  rheumatic  leg  and  sighed,  but 
said  nothing. 

The  Bradleys  returned  about  ten  o'clock,  and 
came  in  very  sheepishly.  The  consul  had  gone 

156 


Made  Himself  King 

off  to  pay  the  boatmen  who  had  brought  them,  and 
Albert  in  his  absence  assured  the  sailors  that  there 
was  not  the  least  danger  of  their  being  sent  away. 
Then  he  turned  into  one  of  the  beds,  and  Stedman 
took  one  in  another  room,  leaving  the  room  he  had 
occupied  heretofore  for  the  consul.  As  he  was 
saying  good-night,  Albert  suggested  that  he  had 
not  yet  told  them  how  he  came  to  be  on  a  deserted 
island;  but  Stedman  only  laughed  and  said  that 
that  was  a  long  story,  and  that  he  would  tell  him 
all  about  it  in  the  morning.  So  Albert  went  off 
to  bed  without  waiting  for  the  consul  to  return, 
and  fell  asleep,  wondering  at  the  strangeness  of 
his  new  life,  and  assuring  himself  that  if  the  rain 
only  kept  up,  he  would  have  his  novel  finished  in 
a  month. 

The  sun  was  shining  brightly  when  he  awoke, 
and  the  palm-trees  outside  were  nodding  gracefully 
in  a  warm  breeze.  From  the  court  came  the  odor 
of  strange  flowers,  and  from  the  window  he  could 
see  the  ocean  brilliantly  blue,  and  with  the  sun  col 
oring  the  spray  that  beat  against  the  coral  reefs 
on  the  shore. 

"Well,  the  consul  can't  complain  of  this,"  he 
said,  with  a  laugh  of  satisfaction;  and  pulling  on 
a  bath-robe,  he  stepped  into  the  next  room  to 
iwaken  Captain  Travis.  But  the  room  was  quite 

157 


The  Reporter  Who 

empty,  and  the  bed  undisturbed.  The  consul's 
trunk  remained  just  where  it  had  been  placed  near 
the  door,  and  on  it  lay  a  large  sheet  of  foolscap, 
with  writing  on  it,  and  addressed  at  the  top  to 
Albert  Gordon.  The  handwriting  was  the  con 
sul's.  Albert  picked  it  up  and  read  it  with  much 
anxiety.  It  began  abruptly — 

4 'The  fishermen  who  brought  us  to  this  forsaken 
spot  tell  me  that  it  rains  here  six  months  in  the 
year,  and  that  this  is  the  first  month.  I  came  here 
to  serve  my  country,  for  which  I  fought  and  bled, 
but  I  did  not  come  here  to  die  of  rheumatism  and 
pneumonia.  I  can  serve  my  country  better  by 
staying  alive;  and  whether  it  rains  or  not,  I  don't 
like  it.  I  have  been  grossly  deceived,  and  I  am 
going  back.  Indeed,  by  the  time  you  get  this,  I 
will  be  on  my  return  trip,  as  I  intend  leaving  with 
the  men  who  brought  us  here  as  soon  as  they  can 
get  the  sail  up.  My  cousin,  Senator  Rainsford, 
can  fix  it  all  right  with  the  President,  and  can  have 
me  recalled  in  proper  form  after  I  get  back.  But 
of  course  it  would  not  do  for  me  to  leave  my  post 
with  no  one  to  take  my  place,  and  no  one  could  be 
more  ably  fitted  to  do  so  than  yourself;  so  I  feel 
no  compunctions  at  leaving  you  behind.  I  hereby, 
therefore,  accordingly  appoint  you  my  substitute 

158 


Made  Himself  King 

with  full  power  to  act,  to  collect  all  fees,  sign  all 
papers,  and  attend  to  all  matters  pertaining  to 
your  office  as  American  consul,  and  I  trust  you  will 
worthily  uphold  the  name  of  that  country  and  gov 
ernment  which  it  has  always  been  my  pleasure  and 
duty  to  serve. 

"Your  sincere  friend  and  superior  officer, 

"LEONARD  T.  TRAVIS. 

"P.  S.  I  did  not  care  to  disturb  you  by  moving 
my  trunk,  so  I  left  it,  and  you  can  make  what  use 
you  please  of  whatever  it  contains,  as  I  shall  not 
want  tropical  garments  where  I  am  going.  What 
you  will  need  most,  I  think,  is  a  waterproof  and 
umbrella. 

"P.  S.  Look  out  for  that  young  man  Stedman. 
He  is  too  inventive.  I  hope  you  will  like  your 
high  office;  but  as  for  myself,  I  am  satisfied  with 
little  old  New  York.  Opeki  is  just  a  bit  too  far 
from  civilization  to  suit  me." 

Albert  held  the  letter  before  him  and  read  it 
over  again  before  he  moved.  Then  he  jumped  to 
the  window.  The  boat  was  gone,  and  there  was 
not  a  sign  of  it  on  the  horizon. 

"The  miserable  old  hypocrite !"  he  cried,  half 
angry  and  half  laughing.  "If  he  thinks  I  am  go 
ing  to  stay  here  alone  he  is  very  greatly  mistaken. 

159 


The  Reporter  Who 

And  yet,  why  not?"  he  asked.  He  stopped  solilo* 
quizing  and  looked  around  him,  thinking  rapidly. 
As  he  stood  there,  Stedman  came  in  from  the  other 
room,  fresh  and  smiling  from  his  morning's  bath. 

"Good-morning,"  he  said,  "where's  the  con 
sul?" 

"The  consul,"  said  Albert,  gravely,  "is  before 
you.  In  me  you  see  the  American  consul  to 
Opeki. 

"Captain  Travis,"  Albert  explained,  "has  re 
turned  to  the  United  States.  I  suppose  he  feels 
that  he  can  best  serve  his  country  by  remaining  on 
the  spot.  In  case  of  another  war,  now,  for  in 
stance,  he  would  be  there  to  save  it  again." 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Sted 
man,  anxiously.  "You  will  not  run  away  too,  will 
you?" 

Albert  said  that  he  intended  to  remain  where  he 
was  and  perform  his  consular  duties,  to  appoint 
him  his  secretary,  and  to  elevate  the  United  States 
in  the  opinion  of  the  Opekians  above  all  other 
nations. 

"They  may  not  think  much  of  the  United  States 
in  England,"  he  said;  "but  we  are  going  to  teach 
the  people  of  Opeki  that  America  is  first  on  the 
map  and  that  there  is  no  second." 

"I'm  sure  it's  very  good  of  you  to  make  me  your 
160 


Made  Himself  King 

secretary,"  said  Stedman,  with  some  pride.  "I 
hope  I  won't  make  any  mistakes.  What  are  the 
duties  of  a  consul's  secretary?" 

"That,"  said  Albert,  "I  do  not  know.  But  you 
are  rather  good  at  inventing,  so  you  can  invent  a 
few.  That  should  be  your  first  duty  and  you 
should  attend  to  it  at  once.  I  will  have  trouble 
enough  finding  work  for  myself.  Your  salary  is 
five  hundred  dollars  a  year;  and  now,"  he  con 
tinued,  briskly,  "we  want  to  prepare  for  this  re 
ception.  We  can  tell  the  King  that  Travis  was 
just  a  guard  of  honor  for  the  trip,  and  that  I  have 
sent  him  back  to  tell  the  President  of  my  safe  ar 
rival.  That  will  keep  the  President  from  getting 
anxious.  There  is  nothing,"  continued  Albert, 
"like  a  uniform  to  impress  people  who  live  in  the 
tropics,  and  Travis,  it  so  happens,  has  two  in  his 
trunk.  He  intended  to  wear  them  on  State  occa 
sions,  and  as  I  inherit  the  trunk  and  all  that  is  in 
it,  I  intend  to  wear  one  of  the  uniforms,  and  you 
can  have  the  other.  But  I  have  first  choice,  be 
cause  I  am  consul." 

Captain  Travis's  consular  outfit  consisted  of  one 
full  dress  and  one  undress  United  States  uniform. 
Albert  put  on  the  dress-coat  over  a  pair  of  white 
flannel  trousers,  and  looked  remarkably  brave  and 
handsome.  Stedman,  who  was  only  eighteen  and 

161 


The  Reporter  Who 

quite  thin,  did  not  appear  so  well,  until  Albert  sug 
gested  his  padding  out  his  chest  and  shoulders  with 
towels.  This  made  him  rather  warm,  but  helped 
his  general  appearance. 

"The  two  Bradleys  must  dress  up,  too,"  said 
Albert.  "I  think  they  ought  to  act  as  a  guard  of 
honor,  don't  you?  The  only  things  I  have  are 
blazers  and  jerseys;  but  it  doesn't  much  matter 
what  they  wear,  as  long  as  they  dress  alike." 

He  accordingly  called  in  the  two  Bradleys,  and 
gave  them  each  a  pair  of  the  captain's  rejected 
white  duck  trousers,  and  a  blue  jersey  apiece,  with 
a  big  white  Y  on  it. 

"The  students  of  Yale  gave  me  that,"  he  said 
to  the  younger  Bradley,  "in  which  to  play  football, 
and  a  great  man  gave  me  the  other.  His  name  is 
Walter  Camp;  and  if  you  rip  or  soil  that  jersey, 
I'll  send  you  back  to  England  in  irons;  so  be 
careful."  ' 

Stedman  gazed  at  his  companions  in  their  dif 
ferent  costumes,  doubtfully.  "It  reminds  me,"  he 
said,  "of  private  theatricals.  Of  the  time  our 
church  choir  played  Tinafore.' ' 

"Yes,"  assented  Albert;  "but  I  don't  think  we 
look  quite  gay  enough.  I  tell  you  what  we  need, 
— medals.  You  never  saw  a  diplomat  without  a 
lot  of  decorations  and  medals." 

162 


Made  Himself  King 

"Well,  I  can  fix  that,"  Stedman  said.  "I've  got 
a  trunkful.  I  used  to  be  the  fastest  bicycle-rider 
in  Connecticut,  and  I've  got  all  my  prizes  with 


me." 


Albert  said  doubtfully  that  that  wasn't  exactly 
the  sort  of  medal  he  meant. 

"Perhaps  not,"  returned  Stedman,  as  he  began 
fumbling  in  his  trunk;  "but  the  King  won't  know 
the  difference.  He  couldn't  tell  a  cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor  from  a  medal  for  the  tug  of 


war." 


So  the  bicycle  medals,  of  which  Stedman  seemed 
to  have  an  innumerable  quantity,  were  strung  in 
profusion  over  Albert's  uniform,  and  in  a  lesser 
quantity  over  Stedman's;  while  a  handful  of  leaden 
ones,  those  sold  on  the  streets  for  the  Constitu 
tional  Centennial,  with  which  Albert  had  provided 
himself,  were  wrapped  up  in  a  red  silk  handker 
chief  for  presentation  to  the  King;  with  them  Al 
bert  placed  a  number  of  brass  rods  and  brass 
chains,  much  to  Stedman's  delighted  approval. 

"That  is  a  very  good  idea,"  he  said.  "Demo 
cratic  simplicity  is  the  right  thing  at  home,  of 
course;  but  when  you  go  abroad  and  mix  with 
crowned  heads,  you  want  to  show  them  that  you 
know  what's  what." 

"Well,"  said  Albert,  gravely,  "I  sincerely  hope 
163 


The  Reporter  Who 

this  crowned  head  don't  know  what's  what.  If 
he  reads  'Connecticut  Agricultural  State  Fair. 
One  mile  bicycle  race.  First  Prize/  on  this  badge, 
when  we  are  trying  to  make  him  believe  it's  a  war 
medal,  it  may  hurt  his  feelings." 

Bradley,  Jr.,  went  ahead  to  announce  the  ap 
proach  of  the  American  embassy,  which  he  did 
with  so  much  manner  that  the  King  deferred  the 
audience  a  half-hour,  in  order  that  he  might  better 
prepare  to  receive  his  visitors.  When  the  audience 
did  take  place,  it  attracted  the  entire  population  to 
the  green  spot  in  front  of  the  King's  palace,  and 
their  delight  and  excitement  over  the  appearance 
of  the  visitors  was  sincere  and  hearty.  The  King 
was  too  polite  to  appear  much  surprised,  but  he 
showed  his  delight  over  his  presents  as  simply  and 
openly  as  a  child.  Thrice  he  insisted  on  embracing 
Albert,  and  kissing  him  three  times  on  the  fore 
head,  which,  Stedman  assured  him  in  a  side-whis 
per,  was  a  great  honor;  an  honor  which  was  not 
extended  to  the  secretary,  although  he  was  given 
a  necklace  of  animals'  claws  instead,  with  which  he 
was  better  satisfied. 

After  this  reception,  the  embassy  marched  back 
to  the  consul's  office,  surrounded  by  an  immense 
number  of  the  natives,  some  of  whom  ran  ahead 
and  looked  back  at  them,  and  crowded  so  close 

164 


Made  Himself  King 

that  the  two  Bradleys  had  to  poke  at  those  nearest 
with  their  guns.  The  crowd  remained  outside  the 
office  even  after  the  procession  of  four  had  dis 
appeared,  and  cheered.  This  suggested  to  Gor 
don  that  this  would  be  a  good  time  to  make  a 
speech,  which  he  accordingly  did,  Stedman  trans 
lating  it,  sentence  by  sentence.  At  the  conclusion 
of  this  effort,  Albert  distributed  a  number  of  brass 
rings  among  the  married  men  present,  which  they 
placed  on  whichever  finger  fitted  best,  and  de 
parted  delighted. 

Albert  had  wished  to  give  the  rings  to  the  mar 
ried  women,  but  Stedman  pointed  out  to  him  that 
it  would  be  much  cheaper  to  give  them  to  the  mar 
ried  men;  for  while  one  woman  could  only  have 
one  husband,  one  man  could  have  at  least  six  wives. 

"And  now,  Stedman, "  said  Albert,  after  the 
mob  had  gone,  "tell  me  what  you  are  doing  on  this 
island." 

"It's  a  very  simple  story,"  Stedman  said.  "I 
am  the  representative,  or  agent,  or  operator,  for 
the  Yokohama  Cable  Company.  The  Yokohama 
Cable  Company  is  a  company  organized  in  San 
Francisco,  for  the  purpose  of  laying  a  cable  to 
Yokohama.  It  is  a  stock  company;  and  though  it 
started  out  very  well,  the  stock  has  fallen  very  low. 
Between  ourselves,  it  is  not  worth  over  three  or 

165 


The  Reporter  Who 

four  cents.  When  the  officers  of  the  company 
found  out  that  no  one  would  buy  their  stock,  and 
that  no  one  believed  in  them  or  their  scheme,  they 
laid  a  cable  to  Octavia,  and  extended  it  on  to  this 
island.  Then  they  said  they  had  run  out  of  ready 
money,  and  would  wait  until  they  got  more  before 
laying  their  cable  any  farther.  I  do  not  think  they 
ever  will  lay  it  any  farther,  but  that  is  none  of  my 
business.  My  business  is  to  answer  cable  messages 
from  San  Francisco,  so  that  the  people  who  visit 
the  home  office  can  see  that  at  least  a  part  of  the 
cable  is  working.  That  sometimes  impresses  them, 
and  they  buy  stock.  There  is  another  chap  over  in 
Octavia,  who  relays  all  my  messages  and  all  my 
replies  to  those  messages  that  come  to  me  through 
him  from  San  Francisco.  They  never  send  a  mes 
sage  unless  they  have  brought  someone  to  the 
office  whom  they  want  to  impress,  and  who,  they 
think,  has  money  to  invest  in  the  Y.  C.  C.  stock, 
and  so  we  never  go  near  the  wire,  except  at  three 
o'clock  every  afternoon.  And  then  generally  only 
to  say  'How  are  you?'  or  'It's  raining,'  or  some 
thing  like  that.  I've  been  saying  'It's  raining,' 
now  for  the  last  three  months,  but  to-day  I  will 
say  that  the  new  consul  has  arrived.  That  will  be 
a  pleasant  surprise  for  the  chap  in  Octavia,  for  he 
must  be  tired  hearing  about  the  weather.  He 

166 


Made  Himself  King 

generally  answers,  'Here  too/  or  'So  you  said,'  or 
something  like  that.  I  don't  know  what  he  says 
to  the  home  office.  He's  brighter  than  I  am,  and 
that's  why  they  put  him  between  the  two  ends. 
He  can  see  that  the  messages  are  transmitted  more 
fully  and  more  correctly,  in  a  way  to  please  pos 
sible  subscribers." 

"Sort  of  copy  editor,"  suggested  Albert. 

"Yes,  something  of  that  sort,  I  fancy,'*  said 
Stedman. 

They  walked  down  to  the  little  shed  on  the 
shore,  where  the  Y.  C.  C.  office  was  placed,  at 
three  that  day,  and  Albert  watched  Stedman  send 
off  his  message  with  much  interest.  The  "chap  at 
Octavia,"  on  being  informed  that  the  American 
consul  had  arrived  at  Opeki,  inquired,  somewhat 
disrespectfully,  "Is  it  a  life  sentence?" 

"What  does  he  mean  by  that?"  asked  Albert. 

"I  suppose,"  said  his  secretary,  doubtfully, 
"that  he  thinks  it  a  sort  of  a  punishment  to  be 
sent  to  Opeki.  I  hope  you  won't  grow  to  think 


so." 


"Opeki  is  all  very  well,"  said  Gordon,  "or  it 
will  be  when  we  get  things  going  our  way." 

As  they  walked  back  to  the  office,  Albert  noticed 
a  brass  cannon,  perched  on  a  rock  at  the  entrance 
to  the  harbor.  This  had  been  put  there  by  the  last 


The  Reporter  Who 

consul,  but  it  had  not  been  fired  for  many  years. 
Albert  immediately  ordered  the  two  Bradleys  to 
get  it  in  order,  and  to  rig  up  a  flag-pole  beside  it, 
for  one  of  his  American  flags,  which  they  were  to 
salute  every  night  when  they  lowered  it  at  sun 
down. 

"And  when  we  are  not  using  it,"  he  said,  "the 
King  can  borrow  it  to  celebrate  with,  if  he  doesn't 
impose  on  us  too  often.  The  royal  salute  ought  to 
be  twenty-one  guns,  I  think;  but  that  would  use  up 
too  much  powder,  so  he  will  have  to  content  him 
self  with  two." 

"Did  you  notice,"  asked  Stedman,  that  night,  as 
they  sat  on  the  veranda  of  the  consul's  house,  in 
the  moonlight,  "how  the  people  bowed  to  us  as 
we  passed?" 

"Yes,"  Albert  said  he  had  noticed  it.    "Why?" 

"Well,  they  never  saluted  me,"  replied  Sted 
man.  "That  sign  of  respect  is  due  to  the  show 
we  made  at  the  reception." 

"It  is  due  to  us,  in  any  event,"  said  the  consul, 
severely.  "I  tell  you,  my  secretary,  that  we,  as 
the  representatives  of  the  United  States  Govern 
ment,  must  be  properly  honored  on  this  island. 
We  must  become  a  power.  And  we  must  do  so 
without  getting  into  trouble  with  the  King.  We 
must  make  them  honor  him,  too,  and  then  as  we 

168 


Made  Himself  King 

push  him  up,  we  will  push  ourselves  up  at  the  same 


time." 


"They  don't  think  much  of  consuls  in  Opeki," 
said  Stedman,  doubtfully.  "You  see  the  last  one 
was  a  pretty  poor  sort.  He  brought  the  office  into 
disrepute,  and  it  wasn't  really  until  I  came  and 
told  them  what  a  fine  country  the  United  States 
was,  that  they  had  any  opinion  of  it  at  all.  Now 
we  must  change  all  that." 

"That  is  just  what  we  will  do,"  said  Albert. 
"We  will  transform  Opeki  into  a  powerful  and 
beautiful  city.  We  will  make  these  people  work. 
They  must  put  up  a  palace  for  the  King,  and  lay 
out  streets,  and  build  wharves,  and  drain  the  town 
properly,  and  light  it.  I  haven't  seen  this  patent 
lighting  apparatus  of  yours,  but  you  had  better  get 
to  work  at  it  at  once,  and  I'll  persuade  the  King 
to  appoint  you  commissioner  of  highways  and  gas, 
with  authority  to  make  his  people  toil.  And  I," 
he  cried,  in  free  enthusiasm,  "will  organize  a  navy 
and  a  standing  army.  Only,"  he  added,  with  a 
relapse  of  interest,  "there  isn't  anybody  to  fight." 

"There  isn't?"  said  Stedman,  grimly,  with  a 
scornful  smile.  "You  just  go  hunt  up  old  Messen- 
wah  and  the  Hillmen  with  your  standing  army  once 
and  you'll  get  all  the  fighting  you  want." 

"The  Hillmen?"  said  Albert. 
169 


The  Reporter  Who 

"The  Hillmen  are  the  natives  that  live  up  there 
in  the  hills,"  Stedman  said,  nodding  his  head 
toward  the  three  high  mountains  at  the  other  end 
of  the  island,  that  stood  out  blackly  against  the 
purple,  moonlit  sky.  "There  are  nearly  as  many 
of  them  as  there  are  Opekians,  and  they  hunt  and 
fight  for  a  living  and  for  the  pleasure  of  it.  They 
have  an  old  rascal  named  Messenwah  for  a  king, 
and  they  come  down  here  about  once  every  three 
months,  and  tear  things  up/' 

Albert  sprang  to  his  feet. 

uOh,  they  do,  do  they?"  he  said,  staring  up  at 
the  mountain-tops.  "They  come  down  here  and 
tear  up  things,  do  they?  Well,  I  think  we'll  stop 
that,  I  think  we'll  stop  that!  I  don't  care  how 
many  there  are.  I'll  get  the  two  Bradleys  to  tell 
me  all  they  know  about  drilling,  to-morrow  morn 
ing,  and  we'll  drill  these  Opekians,  and  have  sham 
battles,  and  attacks,  and  repulses,  until  I  make  a 
lot  of  wild,  howling  Zulus  out  of  them.  And  when 
the  Hillmen  come  down  to  pay  their  quarterly 
visit,  they'll  go  back  again  on  a  run.  At  least  some 
of  them  will,"  he  added,  ferociously.  "Some  of 
them  will  stay  right  here." 

"Dear  me,  dear  me!"  said  Stedman,  with  awe; 
"you  are  a  born  fighter,  aren't  you?" 

"Well,  you  wait  and  see,"  said  Gordon;  "may- 


Made  Himself  King 

be  I  am.  I  haven't  studied  tactics  of  war  and 
the  history  of  battles,  so  that  I  might  be  a  great 
war-correspondent,  without  learning  something. 
And  there  is  only  one  king  on  this  island,  and  that 
is  old  Ollypybus  himself.  And  I'll  go  over  and 
have  a  talk  with  him  about  it  to-morrow." 

Young  Stedman  walked  up  and  down  the  length 
of  the  veranda,  in  and  out  of  the  moonlight,  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  his  head  on  his  chest. 
"You  have  me  all  stirred  up,  Gordon,"  he  said; 
"you  seem  so  confident  and  bold,  and  you're  not 
so  much  older  than  I  am,  either." 

"My  training  has  been  different;  that's  all,"  said 
the  reporter. 

"Yes,"  Stedman  said,  bitterly.  "I  have  been 
sitting  in  an  office  ever  since  I  left  school,  sending 
news  over  a  wire  or  a  cable,  and  you  have  been 
out  in  the  world,  gathering  it." 

"And  now,"  said  Gordon,  smiling,  and  putting 
his  arm  around  the  other  boy's  shoulders,  "we  are 
going  to  make  news  ourselves." 

"There  is  one  thing  I  want  to  say  to  you  before 
you  turn  in,"  said  Stedman.  "Before  you  suggest 
all  these  improvements  on  Ollypybus,  you  must 
remember  that  he  has  ruled  absolutely  here  for 
twenty  years,  and  that  he  does  not  think  much  of 
consuls.  He  has  only  seen  your  predecessor  and 

171 


The  Reporter  Who 

yourself.  He  likes  you  because  you  appeared  with 
such  dignity,  and  because  of  the  presents;  but  if  I 
were  you,  I  wouldn't  suggest  these  improvements 
as  coming  from  yourself." 

"I  don't  understand,"  said  Gordon;  awho  could 
they  come  from?" 

"Well,"  said  Stedman,  "if  you  will  allow  me  to 
advise — and  you  see  I  know  these  people  pretty 
well — I  would  have  all  these  suggestions  come 
from  the  President  direct." 

"The  President!"  exclaimed  Gordon;  "but how? 
What  does  the  President  know  or  care  about  Ope- 
ki  ?  and  it  would  take  so  long — oh,  I  see,  the  cable. 
Is  that  what  you  have  been  doing?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  only  once,"  said  Stedman,  guiltily;  "that 
was  when  he  wanted  to  turn  me  out  of  the  consul's 
office,  and  I  had  a  cable  that  very  afternoon,  from 
the  President,  ordering  me  to  stay  where  I  was. 
Ollypybus  doesn't  understand  the  cable,  of  course, 
but  he  knows  that  it  sends  messages;  and  sometimes 
I  pretend  to  send  messages  for  him  to  the  Presi 
dent;  but  he  began  asking  me  to  tell  the  President 
to  come  and  pay  him  a  visit,  and  I  had  to  stop  it." 

"I'm  glad  you  told  me,"  said  Gordon.  "The 
President  shall  begin  to  cable  to-morrow.  He  will 
need  an  extra  appropriation  from  Congress  to  pay 
for  his  private  cablegrams  alone." 

172 


Made  Himself  King 

"And  there's  another  thing,"  said  Stedman. 
"In  all  your  plans,  you've  arranged  for  the  peo 
ple's  improvement,  but  not  for  their  amusement; 
and  they  are  a  peaceful,  jolly,  simple  sort  of  peo 
ple,  and  we  must  please  them." 

"Have  they  no  games  or  amusements  of  their 
own?"  asked  Gordon. 

"Well,  not  what  we  would  call  games." 

"Very  well,  then,  I'll  teach  them  base-ball. 
Foot-ball  would  be  too  warm.  But  that  plaza  in 
front  of  the  King's  bungalow,  where  his  palace 
is  going  to  be,  is  just  the  place  for  a  diamond.  On 
the  whole,  though,"  added  the  consul,  after  a  mo 
ment's  reflection,  "you'd  better  attend  to  that  your 
self.  I  don't  think  it  becomes  my  dignity  as  Amer 
ican  consul  to  take  off  my  coat  and  give  lessons  to 
young  Opekians  in  sliding  to  bases;  do  you?  No; 
I  think  you'd  better  do  that.  The  Bradleys  will 
help  you,  and  you  had  better  begin  to-morrow. 
You  have  been  wanting  to  know  what  a  secretary 
of  legation's  duties  are,  and  now  you  know.  It's 
to  organize  base-ball  nines.  And  after  you  get 
yours  ready,"  he  added,  as  he  turned  into  his  room 
for  the  night,  "I'll  train  one  that  will  sweep  yours 
off  the  face  of  the  island.  For  this  American  con 
sul  can  pitch  three  curves." 

The  best  laid  plans  of  men  go  far  astray,  some- 
173 


The  Reporter   Who 

times,  and  the  great  and  beautiful  city  that  was  to 
rise  on  the  coast  of  Opeki  was  not  built  in  a  day. 
Nor  was  it  ever  built.  For  before  the  Bradleys 
could  mark  out  the  foul-lines  for  the  base-ball 
field  on  the  plaza,  or  teach  their  standing  army  the 
goose  step,  or  lay  bamboo  pipes  for  the  water- 
mains,  or  clear  away  the  cactus  for  the  extension 
of  the  King's  palace,  the  Hillmen  paid  Opeki  their 
quarterly  visit. 

Albert  had  called  on  the  King  the  next  morning, 
with  Stedman  as  his  interpreter,  as  he  had  said  he 
would,  and,  with  maps  and  sketches,  had  shown 
his  Majesty  what  he  proposed  to  do  toward  im 
proving  Opeki  and  ennobling  her  king,  and 
when  the  King  saw  Albert's  free-hand  sketches  of 
wharves  with  tall  ships  lying  at  anchor,  and  rows 
of  Opekian  warriors  with  the  Bradleys  at  their 
head,  and  the  design  for  his  new  palace,  and  a  royal 
sedan  chair,  he  believed  that  these  things  were  al 
ready  his,  and  not  still  only  on  paper,  and  he  ap 
pointed  Albert  his  Minister  of  War,  Stedman  his 
Minister  of  Home  Affairs,  and  selected  two  of  his 
wisest  and  oldest  subjects  to  serve  them  as  joi-nt 
advisers.  His  enthusiasm  was  even  greater  than 
Gordon's,  because  he  did  not  appreciate  the  difficul 
ties.  He  thought  Gordon  a  semi-god,  a  worker  of 
miracles,  and  urged  the  putting  up  of  a  monument 

174 


Made  Himself  King 

to  him  at  once  in  the  public  plaza,  to  which  Albert 
objected,  on  the  ground  that  it  would  be  too  sug 
gestive  of  an  idol;  and  to  which  Stedman  also  ob 
jected,  but  for  the  less  unselfish  reason  that  it  would 
ube  in  the  way  of  the  pitcher's  box." 

They  were  feverishly  discussing  all  these  great 
changes,  and  Stedman  was  translating  as  rapidly  as 
he  could  translate,  the  speeches  of  four  different 
men — for  the  two  counsellors  had  been  called  in 
— all  of  whom  wanted  to  speak  at  once  when  there 
came  from  outside  a  great  shout,  and  the  screams 
of  women,  and  the  clashing  of  iron,  and  the  patter 
ing  footsteps  of  men  running. 

As  they  looked  at  one  another  in  startled  sur 
prise,  a  native  ran  into  the  room,  followed  by 
Bradley,  Jr.,  and  threw  himself  down  before  the 
King.  While  he  talked,  beating  his  hands  and 
bowing  before  Ollypybus,  Bradley,  Jr.,  pulled  his 
forelock  to  the  consul,  and  told  how  this  man  lived 
on  the  far  outskirts  of  the  village;  how  he  had 
been  captured  while  out  hunting,  by  a  number  of 
the  Hillmen;  and  how  he  had  escaped  to  tell  the 
people  that  their  old  enemies  were  on  the  war-path 
again,  and  rapidly  approaching  the  village. 

Outside,  the  women  were  gathering  in  the  plaza, 
with  the  children  about  them,  and  the  men  were 
running  from  hut  to  hut,  warning  their  fellows, 

175 


The  Reporter  Who 

and  arming  themselves  with  spears  and  swords, 
and  the  native  bows  and  arrows. 

"They  might  have  waited  until  we  had  that 
army  trained,"  said  Gordon,  in  a  tone  of  the  keen 
est  displeasure.  uTell  me,  quick,  what  do  they 
generally  do  when  they  come?" 

"Steal  all  the  cattle  and  goats,  and  a  woman  or 
two,  and  set  fire  to  the  huts  in  the  outskirts,"  re 
plied  Stedman. 

"Well,  we  must  stop  them,"  said  Gordon,  jump 
ing  up.  "We  must  take  out  a  flag  of  truce  and 
treat  with  them.  They  must  be  kept  off  until  I 
have  my  army  in  working  order.  It  is  most  incon 
venient.  If  they  had  only  waited  two  months, 
now,  or  six  weeks  even,  we  could  have  done  some 
thing;  but  now  we  must  make  peace.  Tell  the 
King  we  are  going  out  to  fix  things  with  them,  and 
tell  him  to  keep  off  his  warriors  until  he  learns 
whether  we  succeed  or  fail." 

"But,  Gordon!"  gasped  Stedman.  "Albert! 
You  don't  understand.  Why,  man,  this  isn't  a 
street-fight  or  a  cane-rush.  They'll  stick  you  full 
of  spears,  dance  on  your  body,  and  eat  you,  may 
be.  A  flag  of  truce! — you're  talking  nonsense. 
What  do  they  know  of  a  flag  of  truce?" 

"You're  talking  nonsense,  too,"  said  Albert, 
"and  you're  talking  to  your  superior  officer.  If 

176 


Made  Himself  King 

you  are  not  with  me  in  this,  go  back  to  your  cable, 
and  tell  the  man  in  Octavia  that  it's  a  warm  day, 
and  that  the  sun  is  shining;  but  if  you've  any  spirit 
in  you — and  I  think  you  have — run  to  the  office 
and  get  my  Winchester  rifles,  and  the  two  shot 
guns,  and  my  revolvers,  and  my  uniform,  and  a 
lot  of  brass  things  for  presents,  and  run  all  the 
way  there  and  back.  And  make  time.  Play  you're 
riding  a  bicycle  at  the  Agricultural  Fair." 

Stedman  did  not  hear  this  last,  for  he  was-  al 
ready  off  and  away,  pushing  through  the  crowd, 
and  calling  on  Bradley,  Sr.,  to  follow  him.  Brad 
ley,  Jr.,  looked  at  Gordon  with  eyes  that  snapped, 
like  a  dog  that  is  waiting  for  his  master  to  throw 
a  stone. 

"I  can  fire  a  Winchester,  sir,"  he  said.  "Old 
Tom  can't.  He's  no  good  at  long  range  'cept  with 
a  big  gun,  sir.  Don't  give  him  the  Winchester. 
Give  it  to  me,  please,  sir." 

Albert  met  Stedman  in  the  plaza,  and  pulled  off 
his  blazer,  and  put  on  Captain  Travis's — now  his 
— uniform  coat,  and  his  white  pith  helmet. 

"Now,  Jack,"  he  said,  "get  up  there  and  tell 
these  people  that  we  are  going  out  to  make  peace 
with  these  Hillmen,  or  bring  them  back  prisoners 
of  war.  Tell  them  we  are  the  preservers  of  their 
homes  and  wives  and  children;  and  you,  Bradley, 

177 


The  Reporter  Who 

take  these  presents,  and  young  Bradley,  keep  close 
to  me,  and  carry  this  rifle." 

Stedman's  speech  was  hot  and  wild  enough  to 
suit  a  critical  and  feverish  audience  before  a  barri 
cade  in  Paris.  And  when  he  was  through,  Gordon 
and  Bradley  punctuated  his  oration  by  firing  off  the 
two  Winchester  rifles  in  the  air,  at  which  the  peo 
ple  jumped  and  fell  on  their  knees,  and  prayed  to 
their  several  gods.  The  fighting  men  of  the  vil 
lage  followed  the  four  white  men  to  the  outskirts, 
and  took  up  their  stand  there  as  Stedman  told 
them  to  do,  and  the  four  walked  on  over  the 
roughly  hewn  road,  to  meet  the  enemy. 

Gordon  walked  with  Bradley,  Jr.,  in  advance. 
Stedman  and  old  Tom  Bradley  followed  close  be 
hind,  with  the  two  shot-guns,  and  the  presents  in 
a  basket. 

"Are  these  Hillmen  used  to  guns?"  asked  Gor 
don.  Stedman  said  no,  they  were  not. 

"This  shot-gun  of  mine  is  the  only  one  on  the 
island,"  he  explained,  "and  we  never  came  near 
enough  them  before  to  do  anything  with  it.  It 
only  carries  a  hundred  yards.  The  Opekians  never 
make  any  show  of  resistance.  They  are  quite  con 
tent  if  the  Hillmen  satisfy  themselves  with  the  out 
lying  huts,  as  long  as  they  leave  them  and  the  town 
alone ;  so  they  seldom  come  to  close  quarters." 

178 


Made  Himself  King 

The  four  men  walked  on  for  half  an  hour  or  so 
in  silence,  peering  eagerly  on  every  side;  but  it 
was  not  until  they  had  left  the  woods  and  marched 
out  into  the  level  stretch  of  grassy  country  that  the} 
came  upon  the  enemy.  The  Hillmen  were  about 
forty  in  number,  and  were  as  savage  and  ugly-look 
ing  giants  as  any  in  a  picture-book.  They  had 
captured  a  dozen  cows  and  goats,  and  were  driving 
them  on  before  them,  as  they  advanced  farther 
upon  the  village.  When  they  saw  the  four  men, 
they  gave  a  mixed  chorus  of  cries  and  yells,  and 
some  of  them  stopped,  and  others  ran  forward, 
shaking  their  spears,  and  shooting  their  broad  ar 
rows  into  the  ground  before  them.  A  tall,  gray- 
bearded,  muscular  old  man,  with  a  skirt  of  feathers 
about  him,  and  necklaces  of  bones  and  animals' 
claws  around  his  bare  chest,  ran  in  front  of  them, 
and  seemed  to  be  trying  to  make  them  approach 
more  slowly. 

"Is  that  Messenwah  ?"  asked  Gordon. 

"Yes,"  said  Stedman;  "he  is  trying  to  keep  them 
back.  I  don't  believe  he  ever  saw  a  white  man 
before." 

"Stedman,"  said  Albert,  speaking  quickly,  "give 
your  gun  to  Bradley,  and  go  forward  with  your 
arms  in  the  air,  and  waving  your  handkerchief,  and 
tell  them  in  their  language  that  the  King  is  com- 

179 


The  Reporter  Who 

ing.  If  they  go  at  you,  Bradley  and  I  will  kill  u 
goat  or  two,  to  show  them  what  we  can  do  with 
the  rifles;  and  if  that  don't  stop  them,  we  will  shoot 
at  their  legs;  and  if  that  don't  stop  them — I  guess 
you'd  better  come  back,  and  we'll  all  run." 

Stedman  looked  at  Albert,  and  Albert  looked 
at  Stedman,  and  neither  of  them  winced  or  flinched. 

uls  this  another  of  my  secretary's  duties?"  asked 
the  younger  boy. 

"Yes,"  said  the  consul;  "but  a  resignation  is  al 
ways  in  order.  You  needn't  go  if  you  don't  like 
it.  You  see,  you  know  the  language  and  I  don't, 
but  I  know  how  to  shoot,  and  you  don't." 

"That's  perfectly  satisfactory,"  said  Stedman, 
handing  his  gun  to  old  Bradley.  "I  only  wanted 
to  know  why  I  was  to  be  sacrificed  instead  of  one 
of  the  Bradleys.  It's  because  I  know  the  language. 
Bradley,  Sr.,  you  see  the  evil  results  of  a  higher 
education.  Wish  me  luck,  please,"  he  said,  "and 
for  goodness'  sake,"  he  added  impressively,  "don't 
waste  much  time  shooting  goats." 

The  Hillmen  had  stopped  about  two  hundred 
yards  off,  and  were  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  shouting, 
and  dancing,  and  hurling  taunting  remarks  at  their 
few  adversaries.  The  stolen  cattle  were  bunched 
together  back  of  the  King.  As  Stedman  walked 
steadily  forward  with  his  handkerchief  fluttering, 

180 


Made  Himself  King 

and  howling  out  something  in  their  own  tongue, 
they  stopped  and  listened.  As  he  advanced,  his 
three  companions  followed  him  at  about  fifty  yards 
in  the  rear.  He  was  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
from  the  Hillmen  before  they  made  out  what  he 
said,  and  then  one  of  the  young  braves,  resenting 
it  as  an  insult  to  his  chief,  shot  an  arrow  at  him. 
Stedman  dodged  the  arrow  and  stood  his  ground 
without  even  taking  a  step  backward,  only  turning 
slightly  to  put  his  hands  to  his  mouth,  and  to  shout 
something  which  sounded  to  his  companions  like, 
"About  time  to  begin  on  the  goats."  But  the  in 
stant  the  young  man  had  fired,  King  Messenwah 
swung  his  club  and  knocked  him  down,  and  none 
of  the  others  moved.  Then  Messenwah  advanced 
before  his  men  to  meet  Stedman,  and  on  Stedman's 
opening  and  shutting  his  hands  to  show  that  he 
was  unarmed,  the  King  threw  down  his  club  and 
spears,  and  came  forward  as  empty-handed  as 
himself. 

"Ah,"  gasped  Bradley,  Jr.,  with  his  finger  trem 
bling  on  his  lever,  "let  me  take  a  shot  at  him  now." 
Gordon  struck  the  man's  gun  up,  and  walked  for 
ward  in  all  the  glory  of  his  gold  and  blue  uniform; 
for  both  he  and  Stedman  saw  now  that  Messenwah 
was  more  impressed  by  their  appearance,  and  in 
the  fact  that  they  were  white  men,  than  with  any 

181 


The  Reporter  Who 

threats  of  immediate  war.  So  when  he  saluted 
Gordon  haughtily,  that  young  man  gave  him  a 
haughty  nod  in  return,  and  bade  Stedman  tell  the 
King  that  he  would  permit  him  to  sit  down.  The 
King  did  not  quite  appear  to  like  this,  but  he  sat 
down,  nevertheless,  and  nodded  his  head  gravely. 

"Now  tell  him,"  said  Gordon,  "that  I  come 
from  the  ruler  of  the  greatest  nation  on  earth,  and 
that  I  recognize  Ollypybus  as  the  only  King  of 
this  island,  and  that  I  come  to  this  little  three-penny 
King  with  either  peace  and  presents,  or  bullets 
and  war." 

"Have  I  got  to  tell  him  he's  a  little  three-penny 
King?"  said  Stedman,  plaintively. 

"No;  you  needn't  give  a  literal  translation;  it 
can  be  as  free  as  you  please." 

"Thanks,"  said  the  secretary,  humbly. 

"And  tell  him,"  continued  Gordon,  "that  we  will 
give  presents  to  him  and  his  warriors  if  he  keeps 
away  from  Ollypybus,  and  agrees  to  keep  away 
always.  If  he  won't  do  that,  try  to  get  him  to 
agree  to  stay  away  for  three  months  at  least,  and 
by  that  time  we  can  get  word  to  San  Francisco, 
and  have  a  dozen  muskets  over  here  in  two  months; 
and  when  our  time  of  probation  is  up,  and  he  and 
his  merry  men  come  dancing  down  the  hillside,  we 
will  blow  them  up  as  high  as  his  mountains.  But 

182 


(wwrfajm 

ii ' 

About  Time  to  Begin  oo  the  Gotta. 


Made  Himself  King 

you  needn't  tell  him  that,  either.  And  if  he  is 
proud  and  haughty,  and  would  rather  fight,  ask 
him  to  restrain  himself  until  we  show  what  we  can 
do  with  our  weapons  at  two  hundred  yards." 

Stedman  seated  himself  in  the  long  grass  in  front 
of  the  King,  and  with  many  revolving  gestures  of 
his  arms,  and  much  pointing  at  Gordon,  and  pro 
found  nods  and  bows,  retold  what  Gordon  had 
dictated.  When  he  had  finished,  the  King  looked 
at  the  bundle  of  presents,  and  at  the  guns,  of  which 
Stedman  had  given  a  very  wonderful  account,  but 
answered  nothing. 

"I  guess,"  said  Stedman,  with  a  sigh,  "that  we 
will  have  to  give  him  a  little  practical  demonstra 
tion  to  help  matters.  I  am  sorry,  but  I  think  one 
of  those  goats  has  got  to  die.  It's  like  vivisection. 
The  lower  order  of  animals  have  to  suffer  for  the 
good  of  the  higher." 

"Oh,"  said  Bradley,  Jr.,  cheerfully,  "I'd  just  as 
soon  shoot  one  of  those  niggers  as  one  of  the 
goats." 

So  Stedman  bade  the  King  tell  his  men  to  drive 
a  goat  toward  them,  and  the  King  did  so,  and  one 
of  the  men  struck  one  of  the  goats  with  his  spear, 
and  it  ran  clumsily  across  the  plain. 

"Take  your  time,  Bradley,"  said  Gordon.  "Aim 
low,  and  if  you  hit  it,  you  can  have  it  for  supper." 

183 


The   Reporter  Who 

"And  if  you  miss  it,"  said  Stedman,  gloomily, 
"Messenwah  may  have  us  for  supper." 

The  Hillmen  had  seated  themselves  a  hundred 
yards  off,  while  the  leaders  were  debating,  and  they 
now  rose  curiously  and  watched  Bradley,  as  he 
sank  upon  one  knee,  and  covered  the  goat  with  his 
rifle.  When  it  was  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  off  he  fired,  and  the  goat  fell  over  dead. 

And  then  all  the  Hillmen,  with  the  King  him 
self,  broke  away  on  a  run,  toward  the  dead  animal, 
with  much  shouting.  The  King  came  back  alone, 
leaving  his  people  standing  about  and  examining 
the  goat.  He  was  much  excited,  and  talked  and 
gesticulated  violently. 

"He  says — "  said  Stedman;  "he  says— — " 

"What?  yes,  go  on." 

"He  says — goodness  me! — what  do  you  think 
he  says?" 

"Well,  what  does  he  say?"  cried  Gordon,  in 
great  excitement.  "Don't  keep  it  all  to  yourself." 

"He  says,"  said  Stedman,  "that  we  are  deceived; 
that  he  is  no  longer  King  of  the  Island  of  Opeki; 
that  he  is  in  great  fear  of  us,  and  that  he  has  got 
himself  into  no  end  of  trouble.  He  says  he  sees 
that  we  are  indeed  mighty  men,  that  to  us  he  is  as 
helpless  as  the  wild  boar  before  the  javelin  of  the 
hunter." 

184 


Made  Himself  King 

"Well,  he's  right,"  said  Gordon.  "Go  on." 
"But  that  which  we  ask  is  no  longer  his  to  give. 
He  has  sold  his  kingship  and  his  right  to  this  island 
to  another  king,  who  came  to  him  two  days  ago 
in  a  great  canoe,  and  who  made  noises  as  we 
do — with  guns,  I  suppose  he  means — and  to 
whom  he  sold  the  island  for  a  watch  that  he  has 
in  a  bag  around  his  neck.  And  that  he  signed 
a  paper,  and  made  marks  on  a  piece  of  bark, 
to  show  that  he  gave  up  the  island  freely  and  for 


ever." 


"What  does  he  mean?"  said  Gordon.  "How 
can  he  give  up  the  island?  Ollypybus  is  the  king 
of  half  of  it,  anyway,  and  he  knows  it." 

"That's  just  it,"  said  Stedman.  "That's  what 
frightens  him.  He  said  he  didn't  care  about  Olly 
pybus,  and  didn't  count  him  in  when  he  made  the 
treaty,  because  he  is  such  a  peaceful  chap  that  he 
knew  he  could  thrash  him  into  doing  anything  he 
wanted  him  to  do.  And  now  that  you  have  turned 
up  and  taken  Ollypybus's  part,  he  wishes  he  hadn't 
sold  the  island,  and  wishes  to  know  if  you  are 
angry." 

"Angry?  of  course  I'm  angry,"  said  Gordon, 
glaring  as  grimly  at  the  frightened  monarch  as  he 
thought  was  safe.  "Who  wouldn't  be  angry? 
Who  do  you  think  these  people  were  who  made 


The  Reporter  Who 

a  fool  of  him,  Stedman?  Ask  him  to  let  us  see 
this  watch." 

Stedman  did  so,  and  the  King  fumbled  among 
his  necklaces  until  he  had  brought  out  a  leather 
bag  tied  round  his  neck  with  a  cord,  and  contain 
ing  a  plain  stem-winding  silver  watch  marked  on 
the  inside  "Munich." 

"That  doesn't  tell  anything,"  said  Gordon. 
"But  it's  plain  enough.  Some  foreign  ship  of  war 
has  settled  on  this  place  as  a  coaling-station,  or 
has  annexed  it  for  colonization,  and  they've  sent 
a  boat  ashore,  and  they've  made  a  treaty  with  this 
old  chap,  and  forced  him  to  sell  his  birthright  for 
a  mess  of  porridge.  Now,  that's  just  like  those 
monarchical  pirates,  imposing  upon  a  poor  old 
black." 

Old  Bradley  looked  at  him  impudently. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Gordon;  "it's  quite  different 
with  us;  we  don't  want  to  rob  him  or  Ollypybus, 
or  to  annex  their  land.  All  we  want  to  do  is  to 
improve  it,  and  have  the  fun  of  running  it  for  them 
and  meddling  in  their  affairs  of  state.  Well,  Sted 
man,"  he  said,  "what  shall  we  do?" 

Stedman  said  that  the  best  and  only  thing  to  do 
was  to  threaten  to  take  the  watch  away  from  Mes- 
senwah,  but  to  give  him  a  revolver  instead,  which 
would  make  a  friend  of  him  for  life,  and  to  keep 

186 


Made  Himself  King 

him  supplied  with  cartridges  only  as  long  as  he 
behaved  himself,  and  then  to  make  him  understand 
that,  as  Ollypybus  had  not  given  his  consent  to  the 
loss  of  the  island,  Messenwah's  agreement,  or 
treaty,  or  whatever  it  was,  did  not  stand,  and  that 
he  had  better  come  down  the  next  day,  early  in  the 
morning,  and  join  in  a  general  consultation.  This 
was  done,  and  Messenwah  agreed  willingly  to  their 
proposition,  and  was  given  his  revolver  and  shown 
how  to  shoot  it,  while  the  other  presents  were  dis 
tributed  among  the  other  men,  who  were  as  happy 
over  them  as  girls  with  a  full  dance-card. 

"And  now,  to-morrow,"  said  Stedman,  "under 
stand,  you  are  all  to  come  down  unarmed,  and  sign 
a  treaty  with  great  Ollypybus,  in  which  he  will 
agree  to  keep  to  one-half  of  the  island  if  you  keep 
to  yours,  and  there  must  be  no  more  wars  or  goat- 
stealing,  or  this  gentleman  on  my  right  and  I  will 
come  up  and  put  holes  in  you  just  as  the  gentle 
man  on  the  left  did  with  the  goat." 

Messenwah  and  his  warriors  promised  to  come 
early,  and  saluted  reverently  as  Gordon  and  his 
three  companions  walked  up  together  very  proud 
ly  and  stiffly. 

"Do  you  know  how  I  feel?"  said  Gordon. 

"How?"  asked  Stedman. 

"I  feel  as  I  used  to  do  in  the  city,  when  the 
187 


The  Reporter  Who 

boys  in  the  street  were  throwing  snowballs,  and  I 
had  to  go  by  with  a  high  hat  on  my  head  and 
pretend  not  to  know  they  were  behind  me.  I  al 
ways  felt  a  cold  chill  down  my  spinal  column,  and 
I  could  feel  that  snowball,  whether  it  came  or  not, 
right  in  the  small  of  my  back.  And  I  can  feel  one 
of  those  men  pulling  his  bow  now,  and  the  arrow 
sticking  out  of  my  right  shoulder." 

"Oh,  no,  you  can't,"  said  Stedman.  "They  are 
too  much  afraid  of  those  rifles.  But  I  do  feel 
sorry  for  any  of  those  warriors  whom  old  man 
Messenwah  doesn't  like,  now  that  he  has  that  re 
volver.  He  isn't  the  sort  to  practise  on  goats." 

There  was  great  rejoicing  when  Stedman  and 
Gordon  told  their  story  to  the  King,  and  the  people 
learned  that  they  were  not  to  have  their  huts 
burned  and  their  cattle  stolen.  The  armed  Ope- 
kians  formed  a  guard  around  the  ambassadors  and 
escorted  them  to  their  homes  with  cheers  and 
shouts,  and  the  women  ran  at  their  side  and  tried 
to  kiss  Gordon's  hand. 

"I'm  sorry  I  can't  speak  the  language,  Sted 
man,"  said  Gordon,  "or  I  would  tell  them  what 
a  brave  man  you  are.  You  are  too  modest  to  do 
it  yourself,  even  if  I  dictated  something  for  you 
to  say.  As  for  me,"  he  said,  pulling  off  his  uni 
form,  "I  am  thoroughly  disgusted  and  disappoint- 

188 


Made  Himself  King 

ed.  It  never  occurred  to  me  until  it  was  all  over 
that  this  was  my  chance  to  be  a  war-correspondent. 
It  wouldn't  have  been  much  of  a  war,  but  then  I 
would  have  been  the  only  one  on  the  spot,  and 
that  counts  for  a  great  deal.  Still,  my  time  may 


come." 


"We  have  a  great  deal  on  hand  for  to-morrow," 
said  Gordon  that  evening,  uand  we  had  better  turn 
in  early." 

And  so  the  people  were  still  singing  and  rejoic 
ing  down  in  the  village  when  the  two  conspirators 
for  the  peace  of  the  country  went  to  sleep  for  the 
night.  It  seemed  to  Gordon  as  though  he  had 
hardly  turned  his  pillow  twice  to  get  the  coolest 
side  when  someone  touched  him,  and  he  saw,  by 
the  light  of  the  dozen  glow-worms  in  the  tumbler 
by  his  bedside,  a  tall  figure  at  its  foot. 

"It's  me — Bradley,"  said  the  figure. 

"Yes,"  said  Gordon,  with  the  haste  of  a  man 
to  show  that  sleep  has  no  hold  on  him;  "exactly; 
what  is  it?" 

"There  is  a  ship  of  war  in  the  harbor,"  Bradley 
answered  in  a  whisper,  "I  heard  her  anchor  chains 
rattle  when  she  came  to,  and  that  woke  me.  I 
could  hear  that  if  I  were  dead.  And  then  I  made 
sure  by  her  lights;  she's  a  great  boat,  sir,  and  I  can 
know  she's  a  ship  of  war  by  the  challenging  when 

189 


The  Reporter  Who 

they  change  the  watch.  I  thought  you'd  like  to 
know,  sir." 

Gordon  sat  up  and  clutched  his  knees  with  his 
hands.  "Yes,  of  course,"  he  said;  uyou  are  quite 
right.  Still,  I  don't  see  what  there  is  to  do." 

He  did  not  wish  to  show  too  much  youthful  in 
terest,  but  though  fresh  from  civilization,  he  had 
learned  how  far  from  it  he  was,  and  he  was  curious 
to  see  this  sign  of  it  that  had  come  so  much  more 
quickly  than  he  had  anticipated. 

"Wake  Mr.  Stedman,  will  you?"  said  he,  "and 
we  will  go  and  take  a  look  at  her." 

"You  can  see  nothing  but  the  lights,"  said  Brad 
ley,  as  he  left  the  room;  "it's  a  black  night,  sir." 

Stedman  was  not  new  from  the  sight  of  men 
and  ships  of  war,  and  came  in  half  dressed  and 
eager. 

"Do  you  suppose  it's  the  big  canoe  Messenwah 
spoke  of?"  he  said. 

"I  thought  of  that,"  said  Gordon. 

The  three  men  fumbled  their  way  down  the  road 
to  the  plaza,  and  saw,  as  soon  as  they  turned  into 
it,  the  great  outlines  and  the  brilliant  lights  of  an 
immense  vessel,  still  more  immense  in  the  darkness, 
and  glowing  like  a  strange  monster  of  the  sea,  with 
just  a  suggestion  here  and  there,  where  the  lights 
spread,  of  her  cabins  and  bridges.  As  they  stood 

IQO 


Made  Himself  King 

on  the  shore,  shivering  in  the  cool  night-wind,  they 
heard  the  bells  strike  over  the  water. 

"It's  two  o'clock,"  said  Bradley,  counting. 

"Well,  we  can  do  nothing,  and  they  cannot  mean 
to  do  much  to-night,"  Albert  said.     "We  had  bet-, 
ter  get  some  more  sleep,  and,  Bradley,  you  keep 
watch  and  tell  us  as  soon  as  day  breaks." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  said  the  sailor. 

"If  that's  the  man-of-war  that  made  the  treaty 
with  Messenwah,  and  Messenwah  turns  up  to-mor 
row,  it  looks  as  if  our  day  would  be  pretty  well 
filled  up,"  said  Albert,  as  they  felt  their  way  back 
to  the  darkness. 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do?"  asked  his  secre 
tary,  with  a  voice  of  some  concern. 

"I  don't  know,"  Albert  answered  gravely,  from 
the  blackness  of  the  night.  "It  looks  as  if  we  were 
getting  ahead  just  a  little  too  fast,  doesn't  it? 
Well,"  he  added,  as  they  reached  the  house,  "let's 
try  to  keep  in  step  with  the  procession,  even  if  we 
can't  be  drum-majors  and  walk  in  front  of  it." 
And  with  this  cheering  tone  of  confidence  in  their 
ears,  the  two  diplomats  went  soundly  asleep  again. 

The  light  of  the  rising  sun  filled  the  room,  and 
the  parrots  were  chattering  outside,  when  Bradley 
woke  him  again. 

"They  are  sending  a  boat  ashore,  sir,"  he  said, 
191 


The  Reporter  Who 

excitedly,  and  filled  with  the  importance  of  the 
occasion.  "She's  a  German  man-of-war,  and  one 
of  the  new  model.  A  beautiful  boat,  sir;  for  her 
lines  were  laid  in  Glasgow,  and  I  can  tell  that,  no 
matter  what  flag  she  flies.  You  had  best  be  mov 
ing  to  meet  them:  the  village  isn't  awake  yet." 

Albert  took  a  cold  bath  and  dressed  leisurely; 
then  he  made  Bradley,  Jr.,  who  had  slept  through 
it  all,  get  up  breakfast,  and  the  two  young  men  ate 
it  and  drank  their  coffee  comfortably  and  with  an 
air  of  confidence  that  deceived  their  servants,  if  it 
did  not  deceive  themselves.  But  when  they  came 
down  the  path,  smoking  and  swinging  their  sticks, 
and  turned  into  the  plaza,  their  composure  left 
them  like  a  mask,  and  they  stopped  where  they 
stood.  The  plaza  was  enclosed  by  the  natives 
gathered  in  whispering  groups,  and  depressed  by 
fear  and  wonder.  On  one  side  were  crowded  all 
the  Messenwah  warriors,  unarmed,  and  as  silent 
and  disturbed  as  the  Opekians.  In  the  middle 
of  the  plaza  some  twenty  sailors  were  busy  rearing 
and  bracing  a  tall  flag-staff  that  they  had  shaped 
from  a  royal  palm,  and  they  did  this  as  unconcern 
edly  and  as  contemptuously,  and  with  as  much  in 
difference  to  the  strange  groups  on  either  side  of 
them,  as  though  they  were  working  on  a  barren 
coast,  with  nothing  but  the  startled  sea-gulls  about 

192 


Made  Himself  King 

them.  As  Albert  and  Stedman  came  upon  the 
scene,  the  flag-pole  was  in  place,  and  the  halyards 
hung  from  it  with  a  little  bundle  of  bunting  at  the 
end  of  one  of  them. 

"We  must  find  the  King  at  once,"  said  Gordon. 
He  was  terribly  excited  and  angry.  "It  is  easy 
enough  to  see  what  this  means.  They  are  going 
through  the  form  of  annexing  this  island  to  the 
other  lands  of  the  German  Government.  They 
are  robbing  old  Ollypybus  of  what  is  his. 
They  have  not  even  given  him  a  silver  watch  for 


it." 


The  King  was  in  his  bungalow,  facing  the  plaza. 
Messenwah  was  with  him,  and  an  equal  number 
of  each  of  their  councils.  The  common  danger 
had  made  them  lie  down  together  in  peace;  but 
they  gave  a  murmur  of  relief  as  Gordon  strode 
into  the  room  with  no  ceremony,  and  greeted  them 
with  a  curt  wave  of  the  hand. 

"Now  then,  Stedman,  be  quick,"  he  said.  "Ex 
plain  to  them  what  this  means;  tell  them  that  I 
will  protect  them;  that  I  am  anxious  to  see  that 
Ollypybus  is  not  cheated;  that  we  will  do  all  we 
can  for  them." 

Outside,  on  the  shore,  a  second  boat's  crew  had 
landed  a  group  of  officers  and  a  file  of  marines. 
They  walked  in  all  the  dignity  of  full  dress  across 

193 


The  Reporter  Who 

the  plaza  to  the  flag-pole,  and  formed  in  line  on 
the  three  sides  of  it,  with  the  marines  facing  the 
sea.  The  officers,  from  the  captain  with  a  prayer- 
book  in  his  hand,  to  the  youngest  middy,  were  as 
indifferent  to  the  frightened  natives  about  them 
as  the  other  men  had  been.  The  natives,  awed  and 
afraid,  crouched  back  among  their  huts,  the  ma 
rines  and  the  sailors  kept  their  eyes  front,  and  the 
German  captain  opened  his  prayer-book.  The  de 
bate  in  the  bungalow  was  over. 

"If  you  only  had  your  uniform,  sir/'  said  Brad 
ley,  Sr.,  miserably. 

"This  is  a  little  bit  too  serious  for  uniforms  and 
bicycle  medals,"  said  Gordon.  "And  these  men 
are  used  to  gold  lace." 

He  pushed  his  way  through  the  natives,  and 
stepped  confidently  across  the  plaza.  The  young 
est  middy  saw  him  coming,  and  nudged  the  one 
next  him  with  his  elbow,  and  he  nudged  the  next, 
but  none  of  the  officers  moved,  because  the  captain 
had  begun  to  read. 

"One  minute,  please,"  called  Gordon. 

He  stepped  out  into  the  hollow  square  formed 
by  the  marines,  and  raised  his  helmet  to  the  cap 
tain. 

"Do  you  speak  English  or  French?"  Gordon 
said  in  French;  "I  do  not  understand  German." 

194 


Made  Himself  King 

The  captain  lowered  the  book  in  his  hands  and 
gazed  reflectively  at  Gordon  through  his  specta 
cles,  and  made  no  reply. 

"If  I  understand  this,"  said  the  younger  manr 
trying  to  be  very  impressive  and  polite,  uyou  are 
laying  claim  to  this  land,  in  behalf  of  the  German 
Government." 

The  captain  continued  to  observe  him  thought 
fully,  and  then  said,  "That  iss  so,"  and  then  asked, 
"Who  are  you?" 

"I  represent  the  King  of  this  island,  Ollypybus, 
whose  people  you  see  around  you.  I  also  represent 
the  United  States  Government,  that  does  not  tol 
erate  a  foreign  power  near  her  coast,  since  the  days 
of  President  Monroe  and  before.  The  treaty  you 
have  made  with  Messenwah  is  an  absurdity. 

There  is  only  one  king  with  whom  to  treat,  and 
i  " 

The  captain  turned  to  one  of  his  officers  and 
said  something,  and  then,  after  giving  another 
curious  glance  at  Gordon,  raised  his  book  and  con 
tinued  reading,  in  a  deep,  unruffled  monotone.  The 
officer  whispered  an  order,  and  two  of  the  marines 
stepped  out  of  line,  and  dropping  the  muzzles  of 
their  muskets,  pushed  Gordon  back  out  of  the  en 
closure,  and  left  him  there  with  his  lips  white,  and 
trembling  all  over  with  indignation.  He  would 

195 


The  Reporter  Who 

have  liked  to  have  rushed  back  into  the  lines  and 
broken  the  captain's  spectacles  over  his  sun-tanned 
nose  and  cheeks,  but  he  was  quite  sure  this  would 
only  result  in  his  getting  shot,  or  in  his  being  made 
ridiculous  before  the  natives,  which  was  almost  as 
bad ;  so  he  stood  still  for  a  moment,  with  his  blood 
choking  him,  and  then  turned  and  walked  back  to 
where  the  King  and  Stedman  were  whispering  to 
gether.  Just  as  he  turned,  one  of  the  men  pulled 
the  halyards,  the  ball  of  bunting  ran  up  into  the 
air,  bobbed,  twitched,  and  turned,  and  broke  into 
the  folds  of  the  German  flag.  At  the  same  mo 
ment  the  marines  raised  their  muskets  and  fired  a 
volley,  and  the  officers  saluted  and  the  sailors 
cheered. 

uDo  you  see  that?"  cried  Stedman,  catching 
Gordon's  humor,  to  Ollypybus;  "that  means  that 
you  are  no  longer  king,  that  strange  people  are 
coming  here  to  take  your  land,  and  to  turn  your 
people  into  servants,  and  to  drive  you  back  into 
the  mountains.  Are  you  going  to  submit?  are  you 
going  to  let  that  flag  stay  where  it  is?" 

Messenwah  and  Ollypybus  gazed  at  one  another 
with  fearful,  helpless  eyes.  "We  are  afraid," 
Ollypybus  cried;  "we  do  not  know  what  we  should 
do." 

"What  do  they  say?" 

196 


Made  Himself  King 

"They  say  they  do  not  know  what  to  do." 

"I  know  what  I'd  do,"  cried  Gordon.  "If  I 
were  not  an  American  consul,  I'd  pull  down  their 
old  flag,  and  put  a  hole  in  their  boat  and  sink 
her." 

"Well,  I'd  wait  until  they  get  under  way  before 
you  do  either  of  those  things,"  said  Stedman, 
soothingly.  "That  captain  seems  to  be  a  man  of 
much  determination  of  character." 

"But  I  will  pull  it  down,"  cried  Gordon.  "I 
will  resign,  as  Travis  did.  I  am  no  longer  consul. 
You  can  be  consul  if  you  want  to.  I  promote  you. 
I  am  going  up  a  step  higher.  I  mean  to  be  king. 
Tell  those  two,"  he  ran  on,  excitedly,  "that  their 
only  course  and  only  hope  is  in  me ;  that  they  must 
make  me  ruler  of  the  island  until  this  thing  is  over; 
that  I  will  resign  again  as  soon  as  it  is  settled,  but 
that  someone  must  act  at  once,  and  if  they  are 
afraid  to,  I  am  not,  only  they  must  give  me  au 
thority  to  act  for  them.  They  must  abdicate  in 
my  favor." 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  gasped  Stedman. 

"Don't  I  talk  as  if  I  were?"  demanded  Gordon, 
wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  forehead. 

"And  can  I  be  consul?"  said  Stedman,  cheer 
fully. 

"Of  course.  Tell  them  what  I  propose  to  do." 
197 


The  Reporter  Who 

Stedman  turned  and  spoke  rapidly  to  the  two 
kings.  The  people  gathered  closer  to  hear. 

The  two  rival  monarchs  looked  at  one  another 
in  silence  for  a  moment,  and  then  both  began  to 
speak  at  once,  their  counsellors  interrupting  them 
and  mumbling  their  guttural  comments  with  anx 
ious  earnestness.  It  did  not  take  them  very  long 
to  see  that  they  were  all  of  one  mind,  and  then 
they  both  turned  to  Gordon  and  dropped  on  one 
knee,  and  placed  his  hands  on  their  foreheads,  and 
Stedman  raised  his  cap. 

"They  agree,"  he  explained,  for  it  was  but  pan 
tomime  to  Albert.  "They  salute  you  as  a  ruler; 
they  are  calling  you  Tellaman,  which  means  peace 
maker.  The  Peacemaker,  that  is  your  title.  I 
hope  you  will  deserve  it,  but  I  think  they  might 
have  chosen  a  more  appropriate  one." 

"Then  I'm  really  King?"  demanded  Albert,  de 
cidedly,  "and  I  can  do  what  I  please?  They  give 
me  full  power.  Quick,  do  they?" 

"Yes,  but  don't  do  it,"  begged  Stedman,  "and 
just  remember  I  am  American  consul  now,  and 
that  is  a  much  superior  being  to  a  crowned  mon 
arch  ;  you  said  so  yourself." 

Albert  did  not  reply  to  this,  but  ran  across  the 
plaza,  followed  by  the  two  Bradleys.  The  boats 
had  gone. 

198 


Made  Himself  King 

"Hoist  that  flag  beside  the  brass  cannon,"  he 
cried,  "and  stand  ready  to  salute  it  when  I  drop 
this  one." 

Bradley,  Jr.,  grasped  the  halyards  of  the  flag, 
which  he  had  forgotten  to  raise  and  salute  in  the 
morning  in  all  the  excitement  of  the  arrival  of  the 
man-of-war.  Bradley,  Sr.,  stood  by  the  brass  can 
non,  blowing  gently  on  his  lighted  fuse.  The 
Peacemaker  took  the  halyards  of  the  German  flag 
in  his  two  hands,  gave  a  quick,  sharp  tug,  and 
down  came  the  red,  white,  and  black  piece  of  bunt 
ing,  and  the  next  moment  young  Bradley  sent  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  up  in  their  place.  As  it  rose, 
Bradley's  brass  cannon  barked  merrily  like  a  little 
bull-dog,  and  the  Peacemaker  cheered. 

"Why  don't  you  cheer,  Stedman?"  he  shouted. 
"Tell  those  people  to  cheer  for  all  they  are  worth. 
What  sort  of  an  American  consul  are  you?" 

Stedman  raised  his  arm  half-heartedly  to  give 
the  time,  and  opened  his  mouth;  but  his  arm  re 
mained  fixed  and  his  mouth  open,  while  his  eyes 
stared  at  the  retreating  boat  of  the  German  man- 
of-war.  In  the  stern  sheets  of  this  boat  the  stout 
German  captain  was  struggling  unsteadily  to  his 
feet;  he  raised  his  arm  and  waved  it  to  someone 
on  the  great  man-of-war,  as  though  giving  an  or 
der.  The  natives  looked  from  Stedman  to  the 

199 


The  Reporter  Who 

boat,  and  even  Gordon  stopped  in  his  cheering, 
and  stood  motionless,  watching.  They  had  not 
very  long  to  wait.  There  was  a  puff  of  white 
smoke,  and  a  flash,  and  then  a  loud  report,  and 
across  the  water  came  a  great  black  ball  skipping 
lightly  through  and  over  the  waves,  as  easily  as  a 
flat  stone  thrown  by  a  boy.  It  seemed  to  come 
very  slowly.  At  least  it  came  slowly  enough  for 
everyone  to  see  that  it  was  coming  directly  toward 
the  brass  cannon.  The  Bradleys  certainly  saw  this, 
for  they  ran  as  fast  as  they  could,  and  kept  on 
running.  The  ball  caught  the  cannon  under  its 
mouth  and  tossed  it  in  the  air,  knocking  the  flag 
pole  into  a  dozen  pieces,  and  passing  on  through 
two  of  the  palm-covered  huts. 

"Great  Heavens,  Gordon!'*  cried  Stedman; 
"they  are  firing  on  us." 

But  Gordon's  face  was  radiant  and  wild. 

"Firing  on  us!"  he  cried.  "On  us!  Don't  you 
see  ?  Don't  you  understand  ?  What  do  we  amount 
to  ?  They  have  fired  on  the  American  flag !  Don't 
you  see  what  that  means?  It  means  war.  A  great 
international  war.  And  I  am  a  war-correspondent 
at  last!"  He  ran  up  to  Stedman  and  seized  him 
by  the  arm  so  tightly  that  it  hurt. 

"By  three  o'clock,"  he  said,  "they  will  know  in 
the  office  what  has  happened.  The  country  will 

200 


Made  Himself  King 

know  it  to-morrow  when  the  paper  is  on  the  street; 
people  will  read  it  all  over  the  world.  The  Em 
peror  will  hear  of  it  at  breakfast;  the  President 
will  cable  for  further  particulars.  He  will  get 
them.  It  is  the  chance  of  a  lifetime,  and  we  are 
on  the  spot!" 

Stedman  did  not  hear  this ;  he  was  watching  the 
broadside  of  the  ship  to  see  another  puff  of  white 
smoke,  but  there  came  no  such  sign.  The  two  row- 
boats  were  raised,  there  was  a  cloud  of  black  smoke 
from  the  funnel,  a  creaking  of  chains  sounding 
faintly  across  the  water,  and  the  ship  started  at 
half-speed  and  moved  out  of  the  harbor.  The 
Opekians  and  the  Hillmen  fell  on  their  knees,  or 
to  dancing,  as  best  suited  their  sense  of  relief,  but 
Gordon  shook  his  head. 

"They  are  only  going  to  land  the  marines,"  he 
said;  "perhaps  they  are  going  to  the  spot  they 
stopped  at  before,  or  to  take  up  another  position 
farther  out  at  sea.  They  will  land  men  and  then 
shell  the  town,  and  the  land  forces  will  march  here 
and  co-operate  with  the  vessel,  and  everybody  will 
be  taken  prisoner  or  killed.  We  have  the  centre  of 
the  stage,  and  we  are  making  history." 

"I'd  rather  read  it  than  make  it,"  said  Stedman. 
"You've  got  us  in  a  senseless,  silly  position,  Gor 
don,  and  a  mighty  unpleasant  one.  And  for.no 

201 


The  Reporter  Who 

reason  that  I  can  see,  except  to  make  copy  for  your 
paper." 

"Tell  those  people  to  get  their  things  together," 
said  Gordon,  "and  march  back  out  of  danger  into 
the  woods.  Tell  Ollypybus  I  am  going  to  fix  things 
all  right;  I  don't  know  just  how  yet,  but  I  will,  and 
now  come  after  me  as  quickly  as  you  can  to  the 
cable  office.  I've  got  to  tell  the  paper  all  about  it." 

It  was  three  o'clock  before  the  "chap  at  Octa- 
via"  answered  Stedman's  signalling.  Then  Sted- 
man  delivered  Gordon's  message,  and  immediately 
shut  off  all  connection,  before  the  Octavia  operator 
could  question  him.  Gordon  dictated  his  message 
in  this  way: — 

"Begin  with  the  date  line,  'Opeki,  June  22.' 

"At  seven  o'clock  this  morning,  the  captain  and 
officers  of  the  German  man-of-war  Kaiser  went 
through  the  ceremony  of  annexing  this  island  in 
the  name  of  the  German  Emperor,  basing  their 
right  to  do  so  on  an  agreement  made  with  a  leader 
of  a  wandering  tribe  known  as  the  Hillmen.  King 
Ollypybus,  the  present  monarch  of  Opeki,  dele 
gated  his  authority,  as  also  did  the  leader  of  the 
Hillmen,  to  King  Tellaman,  or  the  Peacemaker, 
who  tore  down  the  German  flag,  and  raised  that 
of  the  United  States  in  its  place.  At  the  same 
moment  the  flag  was  saluted  by  the  battery.  This 

202 


Made  Himself  King 

salute,  being  mistaken  for  an  attack  on  the  Kaiser, 
was  answered  by  that  vessel.  Her  first  shot  took 
immediate  effect,  completely  destroying  the  entire 
battery  of  the  Opekians,  cutting  down  the  Amer 
ican  flag,  and  destroying  the  houses  of  the  peo- 

nip » 

pit 

"There  was  only  one  brass  cannon  and  two 
huts,"  expostulated  Stedman. 

"Well,  that  was  the  whole  battery,  wasn't  it?" 
asked  Gordon,  "and  two  huts  is  plural.  I  said 
houses  of  the  people.  I  couldn't  say  two  houses  of 
the  people.  Just  you  send  this  as  you  get  it.  You 
are  not  an  American  consul  at  the  present  moment. 
You  are  an  under-paid  agent  of  a  cable  company, 
and  you  send  my  stuff  as  I  wrrite  it.  The  American 
residents  have  taken  refuge  in  the  consulate — that's 
us,"  explained  Gordon,  "and  the  English  residents 
have  sought  refuge  in  the  woods — that's  the  Brad- 
leys.  King  Tellaman — that's  me — declares  his  in 
tention  of  fighting  against  the  annexation.  The 
forces  of  the  Opekians  are  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Thomas  Bradley — I  guess  I  might  as  well 
make  him  a  colonel — of  Colonel  Thomas  Bradley, 
of  the  English  army. 

"The  American  consul  says — Now,  what  do  you 
say,  Stedman?  Hurry  up,  please,"  asked  Gordon, 
"and  say  something  good  and  strong." 

203 


The  Reporter  Who 

"You  get  me  all  mixed  up,"  complained  Sted- 
man,  plaintively.  "Which  am  I  now,  a  cable  oper 
ator  or  the  American  consul?" 

"Consul,  of  course.  Say  something  patriotic 
and  about  your  determination  to  protect  the  inter 
ests  of  your  government,  and  all  that."  Gordon 
bit  the  end  of  his  pencil  impatiently,  and  waited. 

"I  won't  do  anything  of  the  sort,  Gordon,"  said 
Stedman;  "you  are  getting  me  into  an  awful  lot 
of  trouble,  and  yourself  too.  I  won't  say  a  word." 

"The  American  consul,"  read  Gordon,  as  his 
pencil  wriggled  across  the  paper,  "refuses  to  say 
anything  for  publication  until  he  has  communicated 
with  the  authorities  at  Washington,  but  from  all  I 
can  learn  he  sympathizes  entirely  with  Tellaman. 
Your  correspondent  has  just  returned  from  an  au 
dience  with  King  Tellaman,  who  asks  him  to  in 
form  the  American  people  that  the  Monroe  doc 
trine  will  be  sustained  as  long  as  he  rules  this 
island.  I  guess  that's  enough  to  begin  with,"  said 
Gordon.  "Now  send  that  off  quick,  and  then  get 
away  from  the  instrument  before  the  man  in  Octa- 
via  begins  to  ask  questions.  I  am  going  out  to 
precipitate  matters." 

Gordon  found  the  two  kings  sitting  dejectedly 
side  by  side,  and  gazing  grimly  upon  the  disorder 
of  the  village,  from  which  the  people  were  taking 

204 


Made  Himself  King 

their  leave  as  quickly  as  they  could  get  their  few 
belongings  piled  upon  the  ox-carts.  Gordon 
walked  among  them,  helping  them  in  every  way 
he  could,  and  tasting,  in  their  subservience  and 
gratitude,  the  sweets  of  sovereignty.  When  Sted- 
man  had  locked  up  the  cable  office  and  rejoined 
him,  he  bade  him  tell  Messenwah  to  send  three  of 
his  youngest  men  and  fastest  runners  back  to  the 
hills  to  watch  for  the  German  vessel  and  see  where 
she  was  attempting  to  land  her  marines. 

"This  is  a  tremendous  chance  for  descriptive 
writing,  Stedman,"  said  Gordon,  enthusiastically; 
"all  this  confusion  and  excitement,  and  the  people 
leaving  their  homes,  and  all  that.  It's  like  the 
people  getting  out  of  Brussels  before  Waterloo, 
and  then  the  scene  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains, 
while  they  are  camping  out  there,  until  the  Ger 
mans  leave.  I  never  had  a  chance  like  this  be 
fore." 

It  was  quite  dark  by  six  o'clock,  and  none  of  the 
three  messengers  had  as  yet  returned.  Gordon 
walked  up  and  down  the  empty  plaza  and  looked 
now  at  the  horizon  for  the  man-of-war,  and  again 
down  the  road  back  of  the  village.  But  neither 
the  vessel  nor  the  messengers  bearing  word  of 
her  appeared.  The  night  passed  without  any  in 
cident,  and  in  the  morning  Gordon's  impatience 

205 


The  Reporter  Who 

became  so  great  that  he  walked  out  to  where  the 
villagers  were  in  camp  and  passed  on  half  way  up 
the  mountain,  but  he  could  see  no  sign  of  the  man- 
of-war.  He  came  back  more  restless  than  before, 
and  keenly  disappointed. 

"If  something  don't  happen  before  three  o'clock, 
Stedman,"  he  said,  "our  second  cablegram  will  have 
to  consist  of  glittering  generalities  and  a  lengthy 
interview  with  King  Tellaman,  by  himself." 

Nothing  did  happen.  Ollypybus  and  Messen- 
wah  began  to  breathe  more  freely.  They  believed 
the  new  king  had  succeeded  in  frightening  the  Ger 
man  vessel  away  forever.  But  the  new  king  up 
set  their  hopes  by  telling  them  that  the  Germans 
had  undoubtedly  already  landed,  and  had  probably 
killed  the  three  messengers. 

"Now  then,"  he  said,  with  pleased  expectation, 
as  Stedman  and  he  seated  themselves  in  the  cable 
office  at  three  o'clock,  "open  it  up  and  let's  find 
out  what  sort  of  an  impression  we  have  made." 

Stedman's  face,  as  the  answer  came  in  to  his 
first  message  of  greeting,  was  one  of  strangely 
marked  disapproval. 

"What  does  he  say?"  demanded  Gordon,  anx 
iously. 

"He  hasn't  done  anything  but  swear  yet,"  an 
swered  Stedman,  grimly. 

206 


Made  Himself  King 

"What  is  he  swearing  about?" 

"He  wants  to  know  why  I  left  the  cable  yester 
day.  He  says  he  has  been  trying  to  call  me  up 
for  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  ever  since  I  sent  my 
message  at  three  o'clock.  The  home  office  is  jump 
ing  mad,  and  want  me  discharged.  They  won't  do 
that,  though,"  he  said,  in  a  cheerful  aside,  "because 
they  haven't  paid  me  my  salary  for  the  last  eight 
months.  He  says — great  Scott !  this  will  please 
you,  Gordon — he  says  that  there  have  been  over 
two  hundred  queries  for  matter  from  papers  all 
over  the  United  States,  and  from  Europe.  Your 
paper  beat  them  on  the  news,  and  now  the  home 
office  is  packed  with  San  Francisco  reporters,  and 
the  telegrams  are  coming  in  every  minute,  and  they 
have  been  abusing  him  for  not  answering  them, 
and  he  says  that  I'm  a  fool.  He  wants  as  much 
as  you  can  send,  and  all  the  details.  He  says  all 
the  papers  will  have  to  put  'By  Yokohama  Cable 
Company'  on  the  top  of  each  message  they  print, 
and  that  that  is  advertising  the  company,  and  is 
sending  the  stock  up.  It  rose  fifteen  points  on 
'change  in  San  Francisco  to-day,  and  the  president 
and  the  other  officers  are  buying " 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  to  hear  about  their  old  com 
pany,"  snapped  out  Gordon,  pacing  up  and  down 
in  despair.  "What  am  I  to  do?  that's  what  I  want 

207 


The  Reporter  Who 

to  know.  Here  I  have  the  whole  country  stirred 
up  and  begging  for  news.  On  their  knees  for  it, 
and  a  cable  all  to  myself,  and  the  only  man  on  the 
spot,  and  nothing  to  say.  I'd  just  like  to  know 
how  long  that  German  idiot  intends  to  wait  before 
he  begins  shelling  this  town  and  killing  people. 
He  has  put  me  in  a  most  absurd  position." 

"Here's  a  message  for  you,  Gordon,"  said  Sted- 
man,  with  business-like  calm.  "Albert  Gordon, 
Correspondent,"  he  read:  "Try  American  consul. 
First  message  O.  K. ;  beat  the  country;  can  take  all 
you  send.  Give  names  of  foreign  residents  mas 
sacred,  and  fuller  account  blowing  up  palace. 
Dodge." 

The  expression  on  Gordon's  face  as  this  message 
was  slowly  read  off  to  him,  had  changed  from  one 
of  gratified  pride  to  one  of  puzzled  consternation. 

"What's  he  mean  by  foreign  residents  massa 
cred,  and  blowing  up  of  palace?"  asked  Stedman; 
looking  over  his  shoulder  anxiously.  "Who  is 
Dodge?" 

"Dodge  is  the  night  editor,"  said  Gordon,  ner 
vously.  "They  must  have  read  my  message  wrong. 
You  sent  just  what  I  gave  you,  didn't  you?"  he 
asked. 

"Of  course  I  did,"  said  Stedman,  indignantly. 

"I  didn't  say  anything  about  the  massacre  of 
208 


Made  Himself  King 

anybody,  did  I?"  asked  Gordon.  "I  hope  they  are 
not  improving  on  my  account.  What  am  I  to  do  ? 
This  is  getting  awful.  I'll  have  to  go  out  and  kill 
a  few  people  myself.  Oh,  why  don't  that  Dutch 
captain  begin  to  do  something!  What  sort  of  a 
fighter  does  he  call  himself?  He  wouldn't  shoot 
at  a  school  of  porpoises.  He's  not " 

"Here  comes  a  message  to  Leonard  T.  Travis, 
American  consul,  Opeki,"  read  Stedman.  "It's 
raining  messages  to-day.  'Send  full  details  of 
massacre  of  American  citizens  by  German  sailors.' 
Secretary  of — great  Scott!"  gasped  Stedman,  in 
terrupting  himself  and  gazing  at  his  instrument 
with  horrified  fascination  —  "the  Secretary  of 
State." 

"That  settles  it,"  roared  Gordon,  pulling  at  his 
hair  and  burying  his  face  in  his  hands.  "I  have 
got  to  kill  some  of  them  now." 

"Albert  Gordon,  Correspondent,"  read  Sted 
man,  impressively,  like  the  voice  of  Fate.  "Is 
Colonel  Thomas  Bradley  commanding  native 
forces  at  Opeki,  Colonel  Sir  Thomas  Kent-Brad 
ley  of  Crimean  war  fame?  Correspondent  Lon 
don  Times,  San  Francisco  Press  Club." 

"Go  on,  go  on!"  said  Gordon,  desperately. 
"I'm  getting  used  to  it  now.  Go  on !" 

"American  consul,  Opeki,"  read  Stedman. 
209 


The  Reporter  Who 

"Home  Secretary  desires  you  to  furnish  list  of 
names  English  residents  killed  during  shelling  of 
Opeki  by  ship  of  war  Kaiser,  and  estimate  of 
amount  property  destroyed.  Stoughton,  British 
Embassy,  Washington. " 

"Stedman!"  cried  Gordon,  jumping  to  his  feet, 
"there's  a  mistake  here  somewhere.  These  people 
cannot  all  have  made  my  message  read  like  that. 
Someone  has  altered  it,  and  now  I  have  got  to 
make  these  people  here  live  up  to  that  message, 
whether  they  like  being  massacred  and  blown  up 
or  not.  Don't  answer  any  of  those  messages  ex 
cept  the  one  from  Dodge;  tell  him  things  have 
quieted  down  a  bit,  and  that  I'll  send  four  thou 
sand  words  on  the  flight  of  the  natives  from  the 
village,  and  their  encampment  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountains,  and  of  the  exploring  party  we  have 
sent  out  to  look  for  the  German  vessel;  and  now 
I  am  going  out  to  make  something  happen." 

Gordon  said  that  he  would  be  gone  for  two 
hours  at  least,  and  as  Stedman  did  not  feel  capable 
of  receiving  any  more  nerve-stirring  messages,  he 
cut  off  all  connection  with  Octavia  by  saying, 
"Good-by  for  two  hours,"  and  running  away  from 
the  office.  He  sat  down  on  a  rock  on  the  beach, 
and  mopped  his  face  with  his  handkerchief. 

"After  a  man  has  taken  nothing  more  exciting 
210 


Made  Himself  King 

than  weather  reports  from  Octavia  for  a  year,"  he 
soliloquized,  "it's  a  bit  disturbing  to  have  all  the 
crowned  heads  of  Europe  and  their  secretaries  call 
ing  upon  you  for  details  of  a  massacre  that  never 
came  off." 

At  the  end  of  two  hours  Gordon  returned 
from  the  consulate  with  a  mass  of  manuscript  in 
his  hand. 

"Here's  three  thousand  words,"  he  said,  desper 
ately.  "I  never  wrote  more  and  said  less  in  my 
life.  It  will  make  them  weep  at  the  office.  I  had 
to  pretend  that  they  knew  all  that  had  happened 
so  far;  they  apparently  do  know  more  than  we  do, 
and  I  have  filled  it  full  of  prophesies  of  more  trou 
ble  ahead,  and  with  interviews  with  myself  and  the 
two  ex-Kings.  The  only  news  element  in  it  is,  that 
the  messengers  have  returned  to  report  that  the 
German  vessel  is  not  in  sight,  and  that  there  is  no 
news.  They  think  she  has  gone  for  good.  Sup 
pose  she  has,  Stedman,"  he  groaned,  looking  at 
him  helplessly,  "what  am  I  going  to  do?" 

"Well,  as  for  me,"  said  Stedman,  "I'm  afraid 
to  go  near  that  cable.  It's  like  playing  with  a  live 
wire.  My  nervous  system  won't  stand  many 
more  such  shocks  as  those  they  gave  us  this 
morning." 

Gordon  threw  himself  down  dejectedly  in  a 
211 


The  Reporter  Who 

chair  in  the  office,  and  Stedman  approached  his  in 
strument  gingerly,  as  though  it  might  explode. 

"He's  swearing  again,"  he  explained,  sadly,  in 
answer  to  Gordon's  look  of  inquiry.  uHe  wants 
to  know  when  I  am  going  to  stop  running  away 
from  the  wire.  He  has  a  stack  of  messages  to 
send,  he  says,  but  I  guess  he'd  better  wait  and  take 
your  copy  first;  don't  you  think  so?" 

"Yes,  I  do,"  said  Gordon.  "I  don't  want  any 
more  messages  than  I've  had.  That's  the  best  I 
can  do,"  he  said,  as  he  threw  his  manuscript  down 
beside  Stedman.  "And  they  can  keep  on  cabling 
until  the  wire  burns  red  hot,  and  they  won't  get 
any  more." 

There  was  silence  in  the  office  for  some  time, 
while  Stedman  looked  over  Gordon's  copy,  and 
Gordon  stared  dejectedly  out  at  the  ocean. 

"This  is  pretty  poor  stuff,  Gordon,"  said  Sted 
man.  "It's  like  giving  people  milk  when  they  want 
brandy." 

"Don't  you  suppose  I  know  that?"  growled 
Gordon.  "It's  the  best  I  can  do,  isn't  it?  It's  not 
my  fault  that  we  are  not  all  dead  now.  I  can't 
massacre  foreign  residents  if  there  are  no  foreign 
residents,  but  I  can  commit  suicide,  though,  and 
I'll  do  it  if  something  don't  happen." 

There  was  a  long  pause,  in  which  the  silence  of 
212 


Made  Himself  King 

the  office  was  only  broken  by  the  sound  of  the 
waves  beating  on  the  coral  reefs  outside.  Sted- 
man  raised  his  head  wearily. 

"He's  swearing  again,"  he  said;  "he  says  this 
stuff  of  yours  is  all  nonsense.  He  says  stock  in  the 
Y.  C.  C.  has  gone  up  to  one  hundred  and  two,  and 
that  owners  are  unloading  and  making  their  fort 
unes,  and  that  this  sort  of  descriptive  writing  is 
not  what  the  company  want." 

"What's  he  think  I'm  here  for?"  cried  Gordon. 
"Does  he  think  I  pulled  down  the  German  flag  and 
risked  my  neck  half  a  dozen  times  and  had  myself 
made  King  just  to  boom  his  Yokohama  cable 
stock?  Confound  him !  You  might  at  least  swear 
back.  Tell  him  just  what  the  situation  is  in  a  few 
words.  Here,  stop  that  rigmarole  to  the  paper, 
and  explain  to  your  home  office  that  we  are  await 
ing  developments,  and  that,  in  the  meanwhile,  they 
must  put  up  with  the  best  we  can  send  them. 
Wait;  send  this  to  Octavia." 

Gordon  wrote  rapidly,  and  read  what  he  wrote 
as  rapidly  as  it  was  written. 

"Operator,  Octavia.  You  seem  to  have  misun 
derstood  my  first  message.  The  facts  in  the  case 
are  these.  A  German  man-of-war  raised  a  flag  on 
this  island.  It  was  pulled  down  and  the  American 
flag  raised  in  its  place  and  saluted  by  a  brass  can- 

213 


The  Reporter  Who 

non.  The  German  man-of-war  fired  once  at  the 
flag  and  knocked  it  down,  and  then  steamed  away 
and  has  not  been  seen  since.  Two  huts  were  upset, 
that  is  all  the  damage  done;  the  battery  consisted 
of  the  one  brass  cannon  before  mentioned.  No  one, 
either  native  or  foreign,  has  been  massacred.  The 
English  residents  are  two  sailors.  The  American 
residents  are  the  young  man  who  is  sending  you 
this  cable  and  myself.  Our  first  message  was  quite 
true  in  substance,  but  perhaps  misleading  in  detail. 
I  made  it  so  because  I  fully  expected  much  more 
to  happen  immediately.  Nothing  has  happened, 
or  seems  likely  to  happen,  and  that  is  the  exact 
situation  up  to  date.  Albert  Gordon." 

"Now,"  he  asked,  after  a  pause,  "what  does  he 
say  to  that?" 

"He  doesn't  say  anything,"  said  Stedman. 

"I  guess  he  has  fainted.  Here  it  comes,"  he 
added  in  the  same  breath.  He  bent  toward  his 
instrument,  and  Gordon  raised  himself  from  his 
chair  and  stood  beside  him  as  he  read  it  off.  The 
two  young  men  hardly  breathed  in  the  intensity  of 
their  interest. 

"Dear  Stedman,"  he  slowly  read  aloud.  "You 
and  your  young  friend  are  a  couple  of  fools.  If 
you  had  allowed  me  to  send  you  the  messages 
awaiting  transmission  here  to  you,  you  would  not 

214 


Made  Himself  King 

have  sent  me  such  a  confession  of  guilt  as  you  have 
just  done.  You  had  better  leave  Opeki  at  once 
or  hide  in  the  hills.  I  am  afraid  I  have  placed  you 
in  a  somewhat  compromising  position  with  the 
company,  which  is  unfortunate,  especially  as,  if  I 
am  not  mistaken,  they  owe  you  some  back  pay. 
You  should  have  been  wiser  in  your  day,  and 
bought  Y.  C.  C.  stock  when  it  was  down  to  five 
cents,  as  'yours  truly'  did.  You  are  not,  Stedman, 
as  bright  a  boy  as  some.  And  as  for  your  friend, 
the  war-correspondent,  he  has  queered  himself  for 
life.  You  see,  my  dear  Stedman,  after  I  had  sent 
off  your  first  message,  and  demands  for  further 
details  came  pouring  in,  and  I  could  not  get  you  at 
the  wire  to  supply  them,  I  took  the  liberty  of  send 
ing  some  on  myself." 

"Great  Heavens !"  gasped  Gordon. 

Stedman  grew  very  white  under  his  tan,  and  the 
perspiration  rolled  on  his  cheeks. 

"Your  message  was  so  general  in  its  nature,  that 
it  allowed  my  imagination  full  play,  and  I  sent  on 
what  I  thought  would  please  the  papers,  and,  what 
was  much  more  important  to  me,  would  advertise 
the  Y.  C.  C.  stock.  This  I  have  been  doing  while 
waiting  for  material  from  you.  Not  having  a  clear 
idea  of  the  dimensions  or  population  of  Opeki,  it 
is  possible  that  I  have  done  you  and  your  news- 

215 


The  Reporter  Who 

paper  friend  some  injustice.  I  killed  off  about  a 
hundred  American  residents,  two  hundred  English, 
because  I  do  not  like  the  English,  and  a  hundred 
French.  I  blew  up  old  Ollypybus  and  his  palace 
with  dynamite,  and  shelled  the  city,  destroying 
some  hundred  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  property, 
and  then  I  waited  anxiously  for  your  friend  to 
substantiate  what  I  had  said.  This  he  has  most 
unkindly  failed  to  do.  I  am  very  sorry,  but  much 
more  so  for  him  than  for  myself,  for  I,  my  dear 
friend,  have  cabled  on  to  a  man  in  San  Francisco, 
who  is  one  of  the  directors  of  the  Y.  C.  C.,  to  sell 
all  my  stock,  which  he  has  done  at  one  hundred  and 
two,  and  he  is  keeping  the  money  until  I  come. 
And  I  leave  Octavia  this  afternoon  to  reap  my 
just  reward.  I  am  in  about  twenty  thousand  dol 
lars  on  your  little  war,  and  I  feel  grateful.  So 
much  so  that  I  will  inform  you  that  the  ship  of  war 
Kaiser  has  arrived  at  San  Francisco,  for  which  port 
she  sailed  directly  from  Opeki.  Her  captain  has 
explained  the  real  situation,  and  offered  to  make 
every  amend  for  the  accidental  indignity  shown  to 
our  flag.  He  says  he  aimed  at  the  cannon,  which 
was  trained  on  his  vessel,  and  which  had  first  fired 
on  him.  But  you  must  know,  my  dear  Stedman, 
that  before  his  arrival,  war-vessels  belonging  to 
the  several  powers  mentioned  in  my  revised  de- 

216 


Made  Himself  King 

spatches,  had  started  for  Opeki  at  full  speed,  to 
revenge  the  butchery  of  the  foreign  residents.  A 
word,  my  dear  young  friend,  to  the  wise  is  suffi 
cient  I  am  indebted  to  you  to  the  extent  of  twen 
ty  thousand  dollars,  and  in  return  I  give  you  this 
kindly  advice.  Leave  Opeki.  If  there  is  no  other 
way,  swim.  But  leave  Opeki." 

The  sun,  that  night,  as  it  sank  below  the  line 
where  the  clouds  seemed  to  touch  the  sea,  merged 
them  both  into  a  blazing,  blood-red  curtain,  and 
colored  the  most  wonderful  spectacle  that  the  na 
tives  of  Opeki  had  ever  seen.  Six  great  ships  of 
war,  stretching  out  pver  a  league  of  sea,  stood 
blackly  out  against  the  red  background,  rolling 
and  rising,  and  leaping  forward,  flinging  back 
smoke  and  burning  sparks  up  into  the  air  behind 
them,  and  throbbing  and  panting  like  living  creat 
ures  in  their  race  for  revenge.  From  the  south 
came  a  three-decked  vessel,  a  great  island  of  float 
ing  steel,  with  a  flag  as  red  as  the  ".*igry  sky  behind 
it,  snapping  in  the  wind.  To  the  south  of  it 
plunged  two  long  low-lying  torpedo-boats,  flying 
the  French  tri-color,  and  still  farther  to  the  north 
towered  three  magnificent  hulls  of  the  White 
Squadron.  Vengeance  was  written  on  every  curve 
and  line,  on  each  straining  engine-rod,  and  on  each 
polished  gun-muzzle. 

217 


Made  Himself  King 

And  in  front  of  these,  a  clumsy  fishing-boat  rose 
and  fell  on  each  passing  wave.  Two  sailors  sat  in 
the  stern,  holding  the  rope  and  tiller,  and  in  the 
bow,  with  their  backs  turned  forever  toward  Ope- 
ki,  stood  two  young  boys,  their  faces  lit  by  the 
glow  of  the  setting  sun  and  stirred  by  the  sight 
of  the  great  engines  of  war  plunging  past  them 
on  their  errand  of  vengeance. 

"Stedman,"  said  the  elder  boy,  in  an  awe-struck 
whisper,  and  with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  "we  have 
"'ot  lived  in  vain.'* 


218 


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• 

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LD  21-100m-12,'46(A2012sl6)4120 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


,';^>.     - 


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